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COF^TRIGHT DEPOSm 



THE 



HISTORY 



OF THE 



102nd M. P 

By, 
Kai Schwensen 



--1 






Copvriqhted. 1919 

bv 

KAI SCHWEXSEX 



©CI.A525974 



M 23 1919 




MAJOR GENERAL JOHN F. O'RYAN 
Commanding 27th American Division 



INTRODUCTION 

This book is dedicated to the officers and men of the 102nd 
M. P. It does not pretend to be a literary masterpiece, nor a 
mihtary document of extreme value. It is just a simple, concise 
report of our small unit's share in the great World War. 

Outsiders might find that it contains many little things which 
look insignificant, immaterial, even trivial. Doubtless they are 
right. But doubtless, too, those very things mean the keynote to 
our masonry while abroad, to all that which made life endurable. 

The choice of a title had its difficulties, as we have survived 
three names during our short existence. A little incident, how- 
ever, decided the question : 

The 1 06th N. Y. Infantry is coming down the St. Calais road, 
eating up the last couple of kilometers. At a crossroad they meet 
two mounted M. P.'s. 

The doughboys throw a searching glance at the men and 
their armbands, then a couple of voices say: 

"Hey, buddie, what outfit?" 

"One Hundred and Second M. P. !" comes the answer. 

"That's all right," drawl the perspiring infantrymen, seem- 
ingly perfectly satisfied; "you fellows are O. K. !" 

This little incident, we repeat, decided the choice: 102nd 
M. P. is the name under which we are known, the name under 
which we fought, the name under which we made our humble rep- 
utation, under which we experienced all that which these notes — 
so we hope — will revive. 




CHAPTER I 

April the 6th, 19 17, the United States declared war on Ger- 
many. 

The break came as the unavoidable conclusion of a chain of 
impertinence and atrocities, which could have only one final result. 
Nevertheless, probably nobody was more surprised than the Ger- 
mans themselves, when it finally occurred. 

Startling as this may seem, it is easily explained. Nobody 
knew better than the Imperial Government in what inadequate state 
America was, to wage a war on the present tremendous scale. 
And even if our strength had been more imposing, it is doubtful 
this would have changed their actions and point of view — distance 
is always deceiving. 

The break, however, came, and as the Regular Army and the 
National Guard — just back from the Mexican campaign — were the 
only available forces, these were naturally the first to attract the 
attention, forming the nucleus around which the proposed big 
Army had to be built. 

When the new Reorganization tables appeared, they, amongst 
others, called for an independent Military Police force for each 
Division, and as the old New York Guard — then the 6th Division 
— previously had supplied this by details, drawn from the different 
units, a rather unsatisfactory arrangement, a call for volunteers 
was made. In June General John F. O'Ryan designated Major 
Shanton and Lieutenant Starr to take charge of the enterprise; and 
with New York City and Syracuse as recruiting centers the cam- 
paign started. 

The inducement, "mounted service," proved to be very attrac- 
tive. Numerous candidates applied for a berth in the selected out- 

7 



fit; originally composed of two Companies, each in charge of a 
Captain, one first and two second lieutenants, and with a major 
(Major Shanton) as commanding officer. 

Unfortunately, however, our officers-roster was never quite 
complete. While on this side hampered by too frequent changes, 
and while abroad by shortage in numbers. To tell the truth, we 
never mustered more than three officers at any time during our 
campaign in France. 

Captain Roosevelt, Lieutenants King, Lawrence and Paris 
were off and on attached to us, while we resided at the 94th Street 
Armory. While at our departure Captain Wickersham and Lieu- 
tenant Munsill were in command of Co. A; Captain (formerly 
Lieutenant) Starr, Lieutenant Ceballos and Matson of Co. B. 

The candidates, as said, being legion, it ciidn't take long to get 
close to the required number, 200 men per company. The first 
days of July found us with about 325 men enrolled; and as Author- 
ity declared this sufficient to make a start, we soon found ourselves 
confronted with a problem which in Bible terms read: By the sweat 
of your brow, you shall earn your bread. 

We began drilling! In civilian clothes, that's true; but we 
made up for it with an immense enthusiasm, and were filled with 
extreme expectations, as we were told: "The tailors were working 
overtime on our new creations." 

They arrived and we put them on. A rather difficult job the 
first couple of times. We discovered that "made-to-order" suits 
in the Army come in numbers. Ordinarily in two, in exclusive 
cases in three. That the Army supply sergeant is on par, if not 
above, the average salesman in any "Ready-made" tailor shop in 
his trying-on process. But, thank God, we came through alive, 
convinced that when we could that without much preliminary train- 
ing, our physical condition wasn't nearly as bad as we had thought. 

We lined up and looked, most of all, probably, like "Kitch- 
ener's mob," the competitors in a first rehearsal on a Wintergarden 
war-pantomime, maybe worse. But we were still alive and going 
strong. We were made familiar with the mystery of guard duty. 
How good or bad an impression we made, we don't know, but if 
the frequency of repeating this part of the military manual has any 
bearing on the final result, we were very good when we were dis- 
charged. The Military Police did their share of guard, both In 
the U. S. A. and abroad. Central Park lawns, formerly guarded 
by a "Keep Off," bowed to the military necessity, and permitted us 
to "Squads east" and "Squads west" to our hearts' content — some- 
times more. 

We were injected against all vices of this world, and still 
some. And later, or rather bye and bye, with the "Semaphore- 
germ," the "pack-a-roll" and "pitch-a-tent-worm" ; had instruc- 
tions in jiu-jutsu and other essential sciences not to forget our intro- 

8 



duction to strange gramophon-like sounds, which we were told was 
French. Mind you, the language of the tribes in the far-off coun- 
try where we were finally destined to land. 

The 1 6th of July found us — without any formal request as to 
our wishes for or against — as part of the U. S. Army, being mus- 
tered into Federal service on this date. It didn't mean a particle 
of difference at that, except — so we were told — in pay. But as we 
hadn't been paid as yet, and doubt existed we ever would be, we 
didn't care; and time went on and on as before. 

We faced the military menu, informed by the military expert 
that "the allowed ration might not entirely satisfy our hunger, but 
it had been scientifically proved in Calories and Centigram that it 
was ample for the upkeep of human energy and endurance." Most 
of us hated "Science" from the very day. 

And, all this time, we more or less unconsciously inhaled doses 
of the military courtesy which is so "indispensable" to the discipline. 
Of the martial caste-system, the "spic-anti-span" law, and the ru- 
mor habit, which according to prescription should grow stronger 
day by day. The prescription was right ! 

At last, on the 6th of September, we marched out of our Ar- 
mory, heavy under the burden of everything in this world which 
comes under personal comfort articles. Without arms, with which 
w»e were not yet entrusted. Cheered to the roof by the crowd in 
the streets, and set out for Spartanburg, all and every one earnestly 
believing that our Christmas would be celebrated in Paris. At that 
time our silent hope, whenever the talk was about "somewhere in 

France." 

******* 

The first railroad trip as a soldier is another leaf in military 
education. Your habits and brain-cells are still so intimately asso- 
ciated with the comforts of civilized life that you as yet are unable 
to appreciate the "Army-express" in all its glory. You hesitate 
accepting the poetry of the imposing kitchen car with its dew-cov- 
ered waterbag and perspiring K. P.'s. The expert's information 
— the same who introduced you to the military menu — that 6^ 
square inch is plenty for a 6 feet 2 O. D. with a 109-pound roll of 
comfort articles. But, as even an Army express has a time sched- 
ule and you still have a desire to spend your Christmas in Paris, 
you finally say good-bye to family and the deputation from the 
local Grocers and Undertakers' Association, entrain, and squeeze 
yourself into the 6>^ square inches, generously helped by the con- 
vulsive jerks of the train, which — with a speed exceeding i Y^ 
miles an hour — starts south. 

The train kept up its southward movement for three cjays, 
frequently stopping for a rest. We discovered the use, but didn't 
acquire any particular fondness for. Hardtack and Bully-beef. 
That there is a distinct contrast between the white and colored 



race indicated, to prevent the calamity of mixing, by signs posted at 
all places where such distinction seems necessary. That the home 
of the watermelon still is in sunny south, where they are grown 
alongside the railroad tracks for the convenience of slow-moving 
troop trains. This and that and a lot more, until we, on the morn- 
ing of September 9th, passed through Spartanburg, happy to dis- 
cover that we hadn't been completely fooled, but that the town 
really existed. 

Two miles south of the town we detrained and stampeded to 
our selected camp site. We pioneered for a couple of hours. 
Dark found us inside the pitched tents, riciing on our cots, now and 
then sounding the depth of water around them with an improvised 
log made out of a shoestring (issued) and a can of corned-willy, 
as sunny South, to celebrate our arrival had surprised us with a 
rain-storm, which flooded our bungalows before we had time to 
protect them with Regulation O. D. trenches. 

But as we had stood the strain so far, we faced this new 
agony as true men, figuring that this new experience might give us 
a chance to enlist in the navy, if our ability to execute Hart-Ander- 
sen-Pairbanks stunts on the promised steeds proved to be a failure. 
Our first duty was making our camp look civilized. Trees, of 
which now only the stumps were left, and some few cotton plants, 
were its former tenants. These we attackeci ferociously, and be- 
fore a week had gone they had entirely disappeared. The crater- 
like, convulsive clay-surface was made into an attractive settlement 
with level streets and squares, fences and bridges. Artistic mem- 
bers of our colony created monuments and other wonders, which 
compare favorably with Plaza Square, Cleopatra's Needle or Fried- 
erick der Grosse's Denkmal, and probably already are to be found 
in Baedeker. This last, being only fair to assume, as it was highly 
commented on in the local newspapers by their art-critic. 

At the same time our shortage in hats, shoes, breeches 
and blouses had been remedied, and such being considered fit for 
presentation, we at last made our appearance in Spartanburg, to 
take over the burden of the military administration, and make the 
town safe — against — democracy. 

To make a long story short, our life was from then on a ver- 
itable "double existence." Tt was a matter of Spartanburg or 
Camp. Spartanburg stood for guard duty and wafRes, spy-in- 
trigues and wheat cakes, the old school house and movies, feeds, 
Hirt and ice cream. Camp meant Reveille and Taps, drill and in- 
spection, cold tents and gloom, fatigue, K. P., and stew. The 
choice was rather easy, and as details changed weekly, numerous 
"cases" turned up which necessitated more than one week's investi- 
gation by the assigned Sherlock Holmes, the lucky one — when he 
finally did return — invariably informing the envious "that he would 
rather stay in camp, anyway." 

10 




102nd— "DIRECTING TRAFFIC" 



11 



Late in October we at last got our horses, or at least some 
of them, thereby being able to display a mounted detail in the 
Spartanburg Parade. During the following months horses be- 
came the all-important question. Stables and corrals grew up, re- 
placing our first primitive picket line. Mounted patrol duty was 
rnade part of our daily routine work. The surrounding roads and 
villages were considered our legitimate property, and names as 
Saxon Mills, Whitney, the Pumping Station, Arcadia, Glendale, 
Reservoir, the Hogfarm, and Haines Junction are sure to revive 
a world of memories. 

It was also during these months many of our familiar faces 
disappeared. O. T. S. took some, Q. M., the Flying Corps, and 
Ordinance Department others. When the call for linguists came, 
more than a dozen left. One joined the Veterinary section. The 
gaps, however, immediately being filled, as our waiting list was 
always crowded. 

By New Year the entire outfit was mounted, thus inaugurat- 
ing a new era. Everybody couldn't be rated a Derby-jockey, but 
we, at least, succeeded in creating a very high average-standard 
for a mounted outfit, and — Campobella was the place where the 
finishing touch was put on. But Campobella stands for more than 
that: It was there we, for the first time, tasted the enchanting 
drink of camp life under ideal conditions. Drank nature's intoxi- 
cating wine from simplicity's sparkling gold cup. 

It was there we felt the sweetness of the sunshine's, moon- 
light's and wind's tender caresses, when we drove our horses over 
the mountain plains in wild gallop. Or listened to the whispering 
creek, where the forest was dark as sin and cool as the crypt in a 
cathedral. 

Oh, yes — those were the days ! 

February the 6th our advance guard arrived as a protection 
for fields and property during the maneuvers, when the division 
took permanent possession of the artillery — and infantry ranges. 
It was often rough and strenuous work, long hours and even re- 
sulted in real moonshine adventures, but it was the kind of work 
and life we fancied. We loved it! 

Campobella, Innman, Tryon, Landrum, Gouensville and Ti- 
gersville — not to forget Walter's Farm — mean memories, sweet 
memories, many and e\'erlasting. 

April the i ith R. T. D. Dunlup died in the hospital, a severe 
bronchitis depriving us of a good friend and partner. His funeral 
service in Spartanburg, April the 13th, saw both companies pres- 
ent, presenting the most conspicuous mounted parade in our entire 
history, to bid him our last good-bye. Incidentally, it happened to 
be our farewell to Spartanburg also. 

Concrete rumors about a speedy departure for the theater of 
war just then fortunately reappeared in camp. We say fortu- 

12 



nately, because it couldn't have been delayed much further. We 
had longed and hoped, were promised and disappointed, and had 
almost reached the stage where we sincerely believeci that our ef- 
fort reading the war news in the daily newspapers wouki be the 
only one ever called for. 

These rumors finally took form. A certain nervousness 
seemed to confirm their quality. One sunny forenoon, after hav- 
ing some pictures taken of the entire organization, we turned in 
our horses to the Remount Station. It was one of the saddest days 
in our young lives. We had come to love those animals. They 
had become our real friends. Our sole companion on lonely rides. 
Our silent listener to daily worries. Our first, last and only care. 

And now good-bye. Heaven only knew what specimens we 
would get "over there." One thing, however, was quite certain: 
they would never, never compare with "him" or "her" ! 

"Him" or "her" was the individual, the best, prettiest, wisest 
and — only — horse. 

A few days after the realization came true. Boxes for sad- 
dles and other equipment were manufactured after an improved 
Ford-system. Our officers roster made complete. Captain Cebal- 
los and Lieutenant Baldwin, Captain Ackerly anci Lieutenant Rux- 
ton being in command of the two companies, respectively, such 
finally putting an end to the long list, on which Captain Nicholas, 
Storm, Querie, Davis and Franchot; Lieutenants Parker, Kennedy, 
Chittenden, Paris and Taylor, had all figured.' 

May 4th we broke camp, and left for unknown destination. 
May 5th we arrived at "Camp Hill," Newport News, Virginia. 

For 12 days we were held there in quarantine, attending end- 
less inspections and red-tape parties, made endurable by the per- 
mission to have visitors. 

Early in the morning. May 17th, the two companies left with 
about one hour's interval, marched to Newport News, "rested" in 
the streets and proceeded to the dock-gates. The first doors guard- 
ing the secrets of "the big adventure." 

And as the description of our previous experiences has been 
related in a rather "sketchy," gay manner, intended only to give a 
short, preliminary resume of our early deeds and doings, we shall 
now settle down to a more extensive, thorough report of our trip, 
track and achievements during the months abroad, those, which if 
not the most Important, surely will remain the most unique in our 
lives. 



13 



CHAPTER II 

Twelve o'clock found us all on boarci the transports. Co, A 
on SS. Pocahontas (formerly Princess Irene of the North German 
Lloyd Line), with 102nd Kng., 102nd F. S. C, and part of the 
102nd Tr. Hdq. Medical Corps. Co. B on SS. Madawaska, with 
parts of 319th, 320th and 321st Infantry, but without Lieutenant 
Ruxton, who was transferred at the last minute. 

Four o'clock the ships hoisteci anchor and backed out from 
the piers, cheered by the throngs on the quay and receiving a noisy 
whistle "Godspeed" from the many steamers in the harbor. Two 
hours later we ran through the long line of battleships anchored 
outside Old Point Comfort, and dropped anchor off Hampton 
Roads for the night. 

Having made ourselves acquainted with the strange, new sur- 
roundings, and consumed our first meal on the high seas, the eve- 
ning was spent watching our aviators taking their rather danger- 
ous evening spins, and throwing a last glance at the country we 
shouldn't see again for so long — some of us maybe never — we 
turned in, to find ourselves next morning moving northeast in a 
heavy fog, which made speed impossible. 

May 19th, still hampered by fog, we arrived at our meeting 
place "somewhere in the Atlantic," all of a sudden appearing in the 
very midst of those transports, with which the rumors had been so 
busy. All wonderfully camouflaged, as our own, and under pro- 
tection of a cruiser (U. S. S. Huntington) and one of our new sea- 
going destroyers (No. 79). 

Around dinner time the picturesque convoy steamed eastward, 
the afternoon being occupied with handing out life belts (coats) 
and receiving instructions as to where to report in case of "fire" or 
"abandon ship." 

Probably nobody thought of it then, but the issue and arrange- 
ments of these safety devices was really several days ahead of the 
normal schedule, as the fleet had just receiveci a wireless about the 
presence and activities of German submarines along the coast, 
wherefore precautions had to be taken in case of a possible emer- 
gency. 

The "lights out" after dark now also meant "no smoking," 
as even a lighted "butt" might be a valuable help for lurking "subs" 
where the curtain of night otherwise would have protected us from 
detection. 

Gun crew and submarine watchers were selected; the gun crew 
acting as ammunition detail, supplying our 6-inch guns with their 
rations of 90-lb. O. D. pills during attack, while the submarine 

14 



watchers distributed all over the ships, each had a certain area of 
the treacherous sea level under constant observation. 

That the 102nd M. P. supplied more than half of these spe- 
cial ciuty men was only what couki be expected, trained as we were 
to the very minute, in immeciiately detecting any suspicious char- 





CAPT. JUAN CEBALLOS AND LIEUT. ORAN BALDWIN 
Commaiulin"- officers duriim- our entire stay in France 



acter who threatened fellowman's property. This, however, not 
changing the fact that the "submarine criminal" was as yet an un- 
known specimen in our criminal annals. 

Next day, May 20, ignoring the frequent showers, we began 
our daily emergency drills, and the same evening, at sunset, the guns 
were manned and made "clear for action" for the first time. 

May 2 1st, 9 A. M., the President Grant came up and joined 
our procession, now numbering 9, not including the warships, which 
likewise had been reinforced and now consisted of 2 destroyers (79 
and 80) and the cruiser. And as the days from May 21-25 were 
rather shy of excitement, it is only fitting to put in a note about the 

15 



daily life and behavior of the troops on their trip across "the big 
pond." 

First, then, judging from all these different types of men, 
ranging in age from i8 to 40, our government ought have no fear 
whatsoever about solving the personnel question for our proposed 
big merchant marine after the war — if the behavior and adeptness 
of these men may be used as a guide for the prospective material. 
The quickness with which they made themselves "at home" under 
such unfamiliar conditions was startling, to say the least. 

Twenty-four hours out, and everybody could tell you, in sailor 
terms, the location, use and object of most everything on board. 
But, speaking about locations, rather accommodations, these were 
not exactly plentiful. Of course, in such emergency, and sending 
across monthly the number of men we did, boats had to be crowded, 
but it looked as if some more deck space could have been provided 
for. As it was, only a minimum could sit down at a time, and had 
it not been for the boys' own initiative, in arranging boxing bouts 
and miniature vaudevilles, time would often have become terribly 
dull and weary, even if there was a "movie" to kill the monotony. 
The boys' spirit however, saved the day. 

The prospect or realization of danger never seemed to enter 
their minds, and even the unpleasant privacies, which are connected 
with a slightly rolling ocean (as on the 23rd to 25th) and which 
produced green-yellow faces, a shaky messline, anci an immense 
waste of food (mostly after it had left the mess kits and commenced 
the hike down to the hungry stomachs), was unable to lower the 
morale, and was conquered with a good-naturedness and "take-it-as- 
comes" spirit, which v^'as incieed remarkable. 

The meals were very good and plentiful, for that matter bet- 
ter than we ever saw them in camp. The sleeping quarters 
crowded, but otherwise as good as could be expected. Some more 
showerbaths or cleaning facilities would have met no objections, 
but — as already said — the want of space to sit down or move 
around was the only real setback. 

Were the boys never homesick? Yes and no! Homesick, 
however, is not the exact word. Millions and millions of thoughts 
were most certainly, every hour of the day, sent back to those 
"back there," but you wouldn't feel it, hardly suspect it. It is one 
of the wonders of the war, a silent, unspoken agreement amongst 
fighting men, not to talk about all the dear ones left behind. It 
was the case here, and we met the same attitude everywhere and all 
through the war. 

You would therefore talk about your daily troubles, disap- 
pointments, pleasures and hardships, extravagant "feeds" (you 
had had), beautiful girls (you might have had), the economic pros- 
pects of China (based on your knowledge of "Chinatown") or 
sightseeing In Sahara (the last visions from the beach, not includ- 

16 



ing the — only — gii'l), about all and everything on earth — except 
that or those who really counted in your life. 

Indeed, human beings are strange, and as solciiers make no 
exception to this rule, they just laughed and joked, thought and 
suffered, but — they didn't talk about it. 

As we were nearing the Danger Zone, the convoy changed its 
irregular physiognomy into a double rank battle formation. On 
May 25th the crews had — rather, intended to have — an impro- 
vised target practice to try out our trusty 6-inch guns, but the prac- 
tice stopped almost as it started, the target being shot to pieces by 
the second shot. Incidentally, however, this maneuver proved to 
be just in nick of time. Next day (the 26th) at 4 o'clock in the 
afternoon, an overturned whaleboat appeared on the horizon, sus- 
pected' of hiding a periscope. The convoy immediately opened 
fire and sank the suspect, cheered by 20,000 men, who from their 
improvised "bleachers" joyously greeted the first "out" in our first 
inning with William's cohort. Same night — it was wonderful 
moonlight — and rather unnoticed as all hands were then asleep, 
the gun crews had another "scare." The ships all made "clear for 
action," but as nothing happened, it only resulted in the entire 
night spent in "watchful waiting." The guns were, however, from 
then on, kept manned day and night; it really looked as if the en- 
emy was especially interested in "O'Ryan's Traveling Circus." 

The 27th was a beautiful, clear day, but cold. If it wasn't 
because everybody realized the necessity of the arrangement, prob- 
ably all those who slept below the waterline and that day got orders 
to sleep on deck until our arrival in France, would hardly have ap- 
preciated this instruction. But the previous day had taught a les- 
son, and made the reasons for the order easily understood. 

The same night two new destroyers arrived, replacing our two 
former companions, which had left us for a little flirt somewhere 
else. And next day (the 28th), 3 :io P. M., 7 new destroyers ap- 
peared from "over there," whereafter our cruiser bade us good- 
bye and turned homeward, leaving the guard to the fishlike torpedo- 
boats, gracefully jumping around the convoy in a manner strangely 
reminding one of the flocks of "porpoises" we had already met. 
At 5 130 in the afternoon a "sub" is sighted; our destroyers take a 
38-miies-an-hour flying start, crash over the spot as racehorses, 
dropping a couple of depth bombs. The explosions shake the ships 
from top to bottom, mountains of water, foam and — black — smoke 
(indicating hit) shot up from the blue-green water, where their 
razorlike bows had just cut a terrible scar, and — It was all over! 
Second Inning (for William) : No hits, no runs (?). Score: i — o 
in our favor. 

The night of May 29th, now being In the Danger Zone, 
everybody sleeps fully dressed. Expectations run high, as we are 
told we may probably reach France the next day. The crews are 

17 



already busy trying out cargo-gear, nets, etc., and 2 P. M., May 
the 30th, two aeroplanes, like those birds which indicated the pres- 
ence of land to Columbus, are seen hovering over the fleet, but soon 
forgotten, as we at 2:10 find ourselves in a veritable engagement 
with a considerable number of German submarines. 

The running fight lasted for about i >4 hours. The white 
smoke from the artillery soon hid part of the details. The de- 
stroyers are dashing madly in and out, circling the convoy like anx- 
ious animal mates protecting their offspring. Red gun flashes mo- 
mentarily blind the eyes; bomb and canon detonations deafen the 
ear, forcing the ship's steel bodies into a slight, vibrating motion, as 
if a deadly nervousness had almost paralyzed their nerve centers, 
this nervousness being the only one felt, as everybody otherwise is 
absolutely indifferent and cool. Not the slightest sign of fear or 
realization of a possible catastrophe may be detected, the men, on 
the contrary, seem to consider it as an exciting entertainment put up 
solely for their benefit, as a fitting celebration of Decoration Day 
and our arrival in France. 

As another "sub" — now making the score 2 to o — was ac- 
counted for, our naval engagements may indeed be recorded as 
extremely successful, always remembering that a convoy is first and 
last on the defensive, only waging a battle when forced by bitter 
necessity. At 5 P. M. we entered the beautiful bay leading into 
St. Nazaire; waited there about half an hour for the French pilot. 
Around 7 :30 we slipped into the inner bay, passing close by the 
wrecks of several ships which had been less fortunate in escaping 
the pirates. And cheered by the immense crowd on the shore, 
flags and a 100 per cent. Yankee Rah! — Rah! we slowly steamed 
into the harbor, resting safely behind the first lock-gates by 9 P. M. 

Floating from one basin to another, the ships finished their 
last lap through the town in a couple of hours. It gave us time 
and opportunity to envy a flirting M. P., make the acquaintance of 
the first poilu, and a mob of kids begging for "cigarettes" and 
"souvenirs" — two words we will never forget. 

At 1 1 :50 we finally docked, and after a few hours' sleep we 
left our floating hotel next morning about 4:30 on the 31st of May, 
in the year of our Lord 1918. 



18 



CHAPTER III 

So, this is P ranee. Well, well, well ! 

Seated on the sidewalk, we take a look at the town. It is 
rather a busy place we have had selected for us for our first-hand 
impression, right outside the ciocks and railroad station. 

Heavy motor trucks and gray-painted army cars are passing 
by in an endless stream. Officers of all ranks and nationalities, but 
mostly Americans, likewise. There come three French soldiers, 
pitifully young, none of them more than 17 summers. Two old 
men look at us with a peculiar look, shake their heads, and disap- 
pear in the houses. Every house is tightly shut, as if only death 
lived within. Maybe it does. 

There is the advance guard of our friends from last night, 
the kids with their inexhaustible crave for cigarettes. And be- 
hind them, a woman in black, one of the many. Because, wher- 
ever you look, you will always find that — women In black, suffer- 
ing and despair. Did you ever think that a country could be bled 
so white, combed so close for men? 

• And if you speak to them, the old men or the mourning 
women — for children, thank God, even in war times remain chil- 
dren, and do not realize how cruel life can be, or what war really 
means — then, you will find a boundless despair, a suffering so In- 
tense that it hardly seems possible, an already settled, definite be- 
lief, that it is all over, that the war Is lost. 

We mention this, because that was our first impression. Be- 
cause It was probably the most remarkable thing we saw In France, 
and we saw a few — the complete change in less than three months, 
from the gloom of defeat to the glory and belief In victory. On a 
people who have suffered, conquered and emerged as the French 
nation has, this casts no reflection. It is, on the contrary, unim- 
aginable how they had still courage and grit enough to stand up 
once more. But they did. A short resume of the general situa- 
tion to explain the prevailing pessimistic outlook seems justified: 

What could be termed the Initial battles of the German final 
drive had just come to a close. The ground taken by the Eng- 
lish around Ypres in 19 17 had been re-taken. Hazebriick was in 
overwhelming danger. Amiens was again within striking distance. 
Solssons had fallen, and the closing-In process on Rhelms had be- 
come acute. The lull In the fighting had given the Germans time 
to re-establish communications through the conquered area. They 
knew probably only too well that they had practically passed 
through the Allied defense system to Its entire depth. And as 
even conservative estimate credited the enemy with at least 72 re- 

19 



serve divisions on the western front, a new blow was expected daily, 
logically around Amiens or Montdidier. A blow which, if suc- 
cessful, would separate the French and British forces, before the 
weight of the Americans could be felt, .i^d open the road for a de- 
cisiv^e push against either Paris or the Cnannel ports. 

The last days of May the artillery again began to roar on the 
Somme and Lys fronts, followed by an advance south of Soissons, 
where it was claimed the Germans were now only 45 miles from 
Paris. The advance, however, was not taken very seriously, as it 
was suspected to be an operation, only meant to draw the attention 
away from the real point of attack. 

Now was it any wonder that the population was stunned, star- 
ing, as it seemed, the very defeat into its cruel face? And after 
sacrifices so indescribable and glorious that no comparison through- 
out the entire history is possible. 

Was it any wonder that the old men shook their heads and 
thought that it was all over, that we had come too late? 

For three days we were quarantined at the American Rest 
Camp about a mile outside St. Nazaire, for the first time being 
introduced to chicken wire beds (oh, how we often wished for those 
later on !) . For 48 hours we took over the entire camp guard, the 
camp at that time housing some 20,000 men. On the third day, 
or June 2nd, "something was in the air." In the afternoon and 
evening our baggage was sent to the station. Tn the evening we 
confidentially were told that we would pull out sometime during 
that night. And we turned In, tired but happy, knowing that we 
at last were on our way, to face the ordeal for which we had come 

— the World War. 

******* 

Two o'clock we were called, torn out of our sweet dreams bv 
a quartette singing Chopin's funeral march, adding an improvised 
finish chord to each line, so effectively executed that the original 
music plmost seemed superfluous. Some ten minutes after we had 
lined up (we had already packed our "apartments" before we 
turned in) and in a slio;ht rain and under cover of night, we sneaked 
out of camp, marched through St. Nazaire to the railroad station 
and entrained for the great unknown. 

Our train — a rather unpleasant change to the worre, of what 
we until then had considered the limit of non-comfort — drawn bv a 
locomotive of a slightly improved Stephens type, pulled out. We 
had started on a two days' — and nights' — ride, which, next to the 
torture of waiting for our departure for home, doubtless will be 
rated as the climax of our sufferings abroad. 

Five minutes was more than suificient to convince everybody 
that with ten In a coupe, legs 2 feet 8, and space between seats i 
foot 2, comfort in a sitting position was impossible. The height 
of the cage being less than 5 feet 2, Standing up was equally out 

20 




German soldier in fnll "war-paint," including gas mask, hand 
o-renades and the famous steel helmet 



21 



of the question. The idea of lying down had not even entered the 
inventor's brain, while all straps, as those we l<.now from subway 
and street cars, were carefully omitted. This last was about the 
only sensible thing about the whole arrangement, as it doubtless 
saved some lives. After the first night everybody was willing to 
try most everything — even hang themselves. 

The only consolation, the only one a traveler has on a long 
trip when dining — and sleeping cars are eradicated, was watching 
the scenery or other objects of interest. The first German pris- 
oners of war were therefore looked at with considerable curiosity. 
So was the first large town, Nantes, while the country itself brought 
forth one comment after the other, for its beauty and wonderful 
cultivation. 

But, as the discomfort grew, these objects lost their interest 
and gave room for a complete disregard about everything — but 
space. The first "rest-station" will therefore always remind us 
that it was there we had an opportunity to find out if we were still 
able to walk and stand upright, and then — that it provided us with 
a cup of coffee. Personally, we think this arrangement an ex- 
tremely lucky one — for the coffee. The best thing we could say 
about it was: forget it! It was so bad that we are thankful we 
don't even know the name of the place, it would spoil its reputation. 
Again we moved on, north, through Angers, le Mans and Alencon. 
Mentioning all the names would only be waste of time, as every- 
body knows them; since, being unable to sleep, watching the stars 
or collecting the geographical names were the only means to kill 
the monotony. It invariably resulted in a deadly scrimmage for 
the possession of the windows at each stop, to explore the valuable 
name', and — the possibilities for "vin-rouge" or "vin blance." 

The next morning, to our surprise, we passed through Seine 
and Rouen. Somehow or other we had all taken it for granted 
that we were headed for the American Sector, and now it looked as 
if our route brought us away from it, north, to the very scene of the 
great British "back-to-the-wall" stand. 

That called for serious consideration and discussion, and thus 
occupied, we killed the time until Darnethal, where we at last 
stopped. 

A hospital train, packed with wounded, and stinking of car- 
bolic and iodoform, made us for a second forget our own suffer- 
ings, but it will forever remain a mystery how we ever got out of 
those cars, as everybody felt sure legs had gone, arms were broken 
and the back simply never had existed. Incidentally having a talk 
with the wounded, it dawned on us, too, that we were getting nearer 
the real thing. The same talk making us feel more puzzled than 
ever, as the wounded were all English, Canadians or Australians. 
Were we, after all, really bound for the English front? 

The station was patroled by Canadian M. P.'s; French poilus 

22 



hang around waiting for a train. There was a pecuHar feeHng of 
depression and uncertainty in the air. Maybe the dirty, tired-look- 
ing soldiers caused it; or the sight of the wounded; or our own sore 
bodies. Who knows? 

A dozen Germans, including four officers, and just taken, were 
locked up in the waiting room. Two of them wore uniforms of a 
green dirty color, which made them look like Austrian Rifles. 
Their pale, drawn faces, too, fitted into the rest of the picture, a 
picture that was bound to stir the emotion. 

We had tea and crackers, marched up to the town-square, 
were dismissed, and dispersed as a pack of hounds or hungry 
wolves, searching the most obscure restaurants and stores for 
"mange," which in English means something to eat. As it, for 
most of us, was our first experiment in this line, this, however, had 
its difficulties. Because, to get something to eat, you have to ask, 
and — ask, that was the problem. 

Those who thought they could speak French could be counted 
on one hand, and those who could make themselves understood 
numbered two. When we nevertheless, practically all of us, had 
something to eat, it was due to a system of pantomime, instinc- 
tively originating and surprising in results. Which doesn't mean 
that we are afraid, we left the town and its population with the im- 
pression that we were dumb. The gestures were always accom- 
panied by fitting phrases, but — we sincerely hope that nobody un- 
derstood English. During the night General Michie had died on 
the train. When we came back we lined up as his coffin was 
brought out, paying last honors to the first of our division to die 
in France. 

And again we boarded our torture chambers, and left — still 
going north — and if possible with less speed than ever. Again a 
short resume is necessary to explain at least some of the reasons 
for our strange route and presence in this area : 

The situation was critical, especially on the British front. The 
expected attack had not yet been resumed. But it was bad enough 
as it was. 

The railroad junction at Amiens, Bethune and Hazebriick 
were under effective fire, meaning that the maintenance of the en- 
tire present railroad system in northern France was in extreme 
danger of being completely paralyzed any minute. St. Pol could 
be reached with long-range guns. The result was that an entire 
new set of emergency railways (three separate routes) had to be 
built, independent of the old main lines; an enterprise which lasted 
up to July. This caused our strange sneaking in by the back door. 
Some of the tracks we passed over were only a few days old and 
had it not been for them the railroad trip would have had other 
terrors in store for us than the discomfort. It would have brought 

23 



us right through the German artillery fire, and at a time when it 
was more deadly than ever. 

The question "men" was, at the same time, as serious as ever. 
The German attacks during March-April had taxed the English 
armies to their very limits. Only 42 divisions were fit for active 
operations, at that only as a ciefensive force. They were far be- 
low strength, and sorely in need of rest. The supply of trained 
reserves was momentarily exhausted, and when reserves did begin 
to arrive, they were immediately broken up, partly to fill the gaps 
in the depleted divisions in the line, partly to be used for the urgent 
and extensive railroad constructions, or the new trench defense 
system (some 5,000 miles) which had to be built to close up the 
gaps. These immense undertakings were the reason for the pres- 
ence in the back area of all those soldiers we saw from the train. 
That was the work they were doing, and which we couldn't quite 
understand, as we naturally, as all raw war material, considered a 
war a war of fronts, and as yet didn't realize that the rear is, at 
least, as important. The one necessitating the other. 

If the German advance during those months had been forced 
home with all the resources the enemy had at their disposal, either 
around Amiens, Arras or in the Lys salient, a catastrophe would 
have been almost a certainty. But fortunately they didn't, for the 
third time losing an opportunity which might have won them the 
war. 

The situation being so critical, some French reserve divisions 
had already, previous to our appearance, been sent up to the hard- 
pressed Flanders front, in exchange for five English divisions bor- 
rowed in April. The month of May bringing American troops in 
assuring numbers, troops who had already proved their quality, at 
last provided the necessary human material to gradually replace 
these. Four Yankee divisions were accordingly sent up to make 
good the shortage, at the same time getting an opportunity to show 
the Imperial armies in those parts that the American millions really 
existed, and were more than the "Newspaper Army" they liked to 
joke about. 

These were therefore at least some of the reasons why the 
27th division made its initial appearance on the English front and 
not in the American sector, but there were doubtless moments, dur- 
ing our trip north, where we might just as well have landed around 
Cantigny, Chateau-Thierry or Soissons, where the Germans still 
kept up their drive, gaining ground, but losing men — and time. 

At 2 o'clock in the morning, on June 5th, we finally reached 
our last stop — Noyelles. We marched to an English camp, located 
right south of the town, and had our second cup of very good tea. 
Consumed what was left of our bully-beef and hardtack, at the same 
time looking around to get an impression of the "Tommies," with 

24 




a 



25 



whom it now seemed doubtless that we, at least for some time, were 
going to share hardships, glory or disgrace. 

And again we became conscious of "getting close to it." Bomb 
craters were sown all over fields and roads. The tents were cam- 
ouflaged and protected with shrapnel and bomb shelters. The 
picket lines hidden, as far as possible, under trees. While on the 
road one pitiful convoy after another of refugees passed by, shiv- 
ering in their few clothes, worn, pale and crying, and usually trailed 
by an old horse dragging some antique cart, containing all what 
had been left them' of their former homes and property. 

But aggravating as this might be to look at, we still had to 
face the saddest blow of the day. Returning to the station, our 
barrack bags were distributed, we were marched over to a near-by 
lot, and received orders to turn in all extra equipment. Imagine — 
months' feverish collecting, critical buying, begging and stealing, 
wasted by a mere command. Followed — and this was the real 
knockout blow — by another order, to turn in the treasured bags, 
except what we absolutely needed of our Department stores — par- 
don, private property, as we from now on would have to carry it 
all on our back. It is almost unbelievable how little that means, 
when you know that. 

But, as an order is an order, we silently obeyed, comforted by 
an assuring promise that the bags would be returned a few days 
later. To tell the truth, we didn't see them until long after the 
war had ended, at that only to find them empty, except for a few 

articles which even an Englishman couldn't use. 

******* 

At 2:10 P. M. we left, duly enrolled as members of the "Hob- 
nail Express," and soon disappeared in a cloud of dust, to finish up 
— more or less — strong in an English "overnight" camp near Sailly. 
We pitched our tents in a small wood, as night raiders were very 
frequent visitors, a fact nobody doubted, the ground reminding 
still more of a sifter than the camp we had left the same morning, 
sampled a glass or two — or maybe three — of "Epenay," and turned 
in, to be called at 4 A. M. next morning for another excursion trip. 

Had the walk the previous day seemed hard for some of us, 
unaccustomed as we were to the treat of marching with full pack, 
the very thought of this comparative pleasure trip had most cer- 
tainly completely vanished before night. _ ^ • 

Our march on the 6th brought us through Sailly, le Titre, For- 
est I'Abbaye, Foret de Crecy, Crecy, Machiel and — that was any- 
way the understanding — ended in Machy. But other dispositions 
must have been taken, and when we arrived — Heaven only knows 
how sore, tired and thirsty — we were cheerfully greeted by the ani- 
mating news that we would have to "eat up" another 6 kilometers 
before we could sit down and rest up after a good day's work. 

Again we slung the packs on our maltreated shoulders, had 

26 



another long look at the empty canteen, rambled down the dusty 
road through Reguire Ecluce, turned south at the chateau, and 
found ourselves, or what was left of us, in Bernay about 2 130 P. M., 
having made about 23 kilometers that day. 

Although our casualties had been rather heavy, it was probably 
the first time we realized how much endurance we really had when 
we were compelled to. It was also the first time we felt definitely 
convinced, that what other mistakes we might have made, our 
selection of the Cavalry-branch, had been the right one, if — we had 
only had the horses. But, as it was, the prospects for getting 
horses soon, seemed very slight. An immense corral near Paris, 
holding about 1,200 heads including those intended for our use, 
had been detected by German aeroplanes, and, on the 2nd of June, 
bombed so mercilessly, that it was practically wiped out of ex- 
istence. Artillery horses and officers' mounts having first consid- 
eration, it therefore most certainly looked, as if all we could expect 
for quite some time, would be left-overs from the English. We 
are sorry to say, that this came only too true. 

The 7th was used as a much-needed rest day to revive our 
numerous "dead," comfort the swollen, wounded feet and sore 
shoulders. To the surprise of many, the cases of cramped feet 
were, by far, more severe where ordinary Russet shoes had been 
worn, the up to then, so detested Hobnails therefore experiencing 
the strange sensation of all of a sudden being considered useful, 
instead of "dead baggage." The price, too, went up accordingly, 
now being almost 2 franc a pair — brand new, of course !' 

Bernay, typical for the many hundreds like it, we should see 
later, was but a small village, housing some 2-300 souls. The sur- 
rounding country was beautiful, rolling, with plenty of forests, 
rich, splendid cultivated fields, and cut by the already familiar ca- 
nals or streams. 

Somehow or other, all these small villages looked exactly 
alike. The bend or slope of the street might differ a bit, but other- 
wise it was the same church, the same graveyard (Neuvilles pic- 
tures), the same straw-roofed houses, the same Estaminees, the 
same aroma of water-soaked soil, grass, flowers and manure. 
Even the type of people was so universal concrete that it appeared 
as if the same old men, women and children followed us around 
from one town to another, wherever we went. 

As it was our first experience in "billeting," instead of spend- 
ing our leisure and sleeping hours in pup-tents or barracks, the 
billet-question, too, will have to be explained. 

Of billets, then, there are two varieties — front and back-area 
billets. Strange as it may seem, the front-area billets — all pro- 
vided that there are still standing houses in said area — are by far 
the best. Here, as there isn't a human being to interfere, and as 
the population usually left in such a hurry that most everything is 
left behind, it is only a matter of selecting what "chateau" you 

27 



want, ordinarily decided according to how attractive the beds look 
or the presence of a stove, take over the property, and feel at 
home. 

In the back area, still occupied by its civilians, it is not nearly 
as easy or comfortable. There a barn without walls, often even 
without a roof, ordinarily means the limits of luxury. Watchful 
eyes are guarding your walk through the vegetable or fruit tree 
patch against your — accidental — interference with their growth. 
The only way out of the misery is "billeting" yourself in a private 
house for 6-10 francs a week. Then, at least, you are sure of roof 
over your head, and a smile instead of the watchful eye. Money 
is a wonderful thing! 

But those tricks we hadn't learned as yet. To tell the truth, 
we were terribly "green" and — we felt it. We were therefore 
continuously seen sneaking around the "Tommies," the few of 
them we found, and who were the sad remnants of the former 66th 
Division (also known as the Click-idi-click Division), almost an- 
nihilated in the April offensive, to acquire some "dope" and gen- 
eral useful information as to how to get along under the present 
conditions and what might follow. 

Our men proved to be apt pupils, and it is doubtful if any 
similar veteran outfit could give us much "inside-dope" we didn't 
know, when we came out of the line just before the armistice. But 
then again the Australians had been our last teachers, and, as they 
always did, they made a d good job of it. 

Our stay in Bernay lasted from the 6th-i8th of June. Be- 
ginning with the second day, we drilled twice a day, or once, using 
the afternoon for hardening-up trips. Rue, Arry, Reguire Ecluse 
or Machy were usually our goal on these hikes, and for drill field 
we used a large, terribly uneven site, southeast of the town. It 
was there we on maneuver day had a call by an Allied plane which, 
shooting low, dropped us our first aeroplane message, attached to 
a Belgian flag. Its whole appearance, maneuver and departure was 
such a revelation of beauty that everybody that day wanted to join 
the flying corps. But it had its anxious moments, too, as we at 
that time didn't know the meaning of the aeroplane horn, had 
heard loads of stories about "Jerry's" ungentlemanlike tricks using 
captured Allied planes, or our insignia, as means to get close to 
the prey without detection. The new English rifles, a couple of 
days before exchanged for our good old Springfields, were there- 
fore clasped more tightly, until the identity of the guest had been 
settled. A precaution which wouldn't have helped us much, as 
the rifles were empty. 

Talking about aeroplanes, everybody since our arrival at 
Bernay had been aftected with "aeroplane fever." It consists of 
an irritating, invariable, quick motion of the head — face upwards — 

28 



whenever the ear spots the machine, to find out if it is friend or 
enemy. The doctors claimed it was due to looking too long and 
deep into the numerous bombholes we had already seen on our 
rambles around the country. In any case, it made two men, swim- 
ming in the creek, run, entirely naked, up the street when a plane 
unexpectedly arrived and dropped a peaceful star shell. But all 
that was part of the game. 

As machines were practically continuously over our heads, 
sometimes a stray bird, sometimes in flocks up to 50, this classify- 
ing became rather strenuous. But the novelty and excitement 
gradually wore off, and before we left, they had become almost 
boring — hardly anybody offering them a single look. June iith 
our first detail left the company to report to the 19th English 
Corps at Pont Remy, a few days after being sent on to 27th Divi- 
sion Headquarters. The same week two others left for the Albert 
front for observation purpose, and when they came back we ex- 
perienced our first right-out-of-the-hand information, on which we 
had to form our opinion, about modern war. The messages were 
not exactly assuring. The same despair and downheartedness 
which we met at St. Nazaire seemed to be predominating at the 
front. The belief that we were too late so settled that we were not 
far from believing it ourselves. Feverishly clinging on to our only 
consolations that everything was still calm and that time was play- 
ing in our favor, giving us the necessary breathing spell for rein- 
forcing and reorganization. 

At Bernay Captain Jennings (P. M. of the 66th Division) 
gave us an instructive lecture on what difficulties, and kind of work, 
we most likely would encounter at the front, based on his own sad 
experiences. It was rather an impressive talk, and opened our 
eyes to the fact that there were still a few little points, especially 
in the dramatic line, we would have to master before graduation, 
and which we didn't know from our previous wars in South Caro- 
lina. But again we feel justified in saying that we proved to be 
apt pupils — Yankees usually are. 

Gas masks and steel helmets had been added to our equip- 
ment. It meant a variation in our daily drill, necessitating our 
familiarizing with this new torture apparatus — referring to the 
gas mask. As to the helmet, the criticism usually centered about 
its size and weight — a criticism which later disappeared mysteri- 
ously, when the shells burst overhead and made one wish for an- 
other headgear eight times the size and of unlimited weight — as 
long as the shrapnel pieces couldn't go through. 

June 1 8th we left for Belloy-sur-Meer, over Neuville, Pon- 
thoile, Noyelles, Estrebaeuf and St. Bliment. It was our longest 
hike yet, and spoke loud about the value of our daily hikes and 
general physical condition. Not a man fell out, but, to tell the 

29 



truth, some men did go down on our baggage lorry, their condition 
being such that the doctor refused them to walk. If our billets in 
Bernay had been bad, the new ones were still worse. A row of 
"houses," probably deserted by their occupants to prevent a mis- 
erable death under their ruins — it looked to be doubtful if they 
were able to stand another night's storm — were put to our dis- 
posal. 

Rats showed themselves with a boldness indicating long and 
unhampered possession, and didn't try to hide their unquestionable 
objection to our unwelcome appearance on their lawful properties. 
But rats were already one of our least worries. What we wanted 
was sleep — and so we did. Nothing very important happened 
during our three days' stay. Oh, yes — pack-carriers were issued 
to replace our cavalry rolls. That brought us another step nearer 
to the Infantry — and ten away from the horses. But we were 
still full of hopes. 

June 2ist we left the houses and rats. Marched through Fri- 
ville, Escarbotin to Fressenville, took the Abbeville mainroad to 
Miannay, turned north at Cambron, and stayed overnight at Grand 
Laviers. 

The Abbeville main road is typical of the French highways — 
"grand course," they are called. Running in a perfectly straight 
line for miles and miles, and fenced in on both sides by tall poplars, 
they serve as a wonderful natural camouflaged road, hiding troop 
movement from the ambitious birdmen. We met several batches 
of German prisoners there, being escorted back from the lines. 
They all stopped and looked wonderingly at us. Remember, they 
had been told and taught that we only existed on paper, and here 
we were in the very heart of the British sector. It was easy to 
read their thoughts, it runs in German, "Wir sind humbugged." 

On the other side St. Mars a gray Army car overtook us. 
It was General O'Ryan. That was the first time we saw the Gen- 
eral since we left Camp Wadsworth. Next morning English lor- 
ries brought US through Abbeville, Auxi, and Doullens to Beauval, 
leaving a small detail behind to take care of our supply. It meant, 
incidentally, that we, from now on, were in the line, even if only in 
reserve. But it was the beginning, anyway. 

Beauval — at that time less than i 5 kilometers from the front 
— was not under bombardment. Doullens, however, now and then 
had a few shells screaming over the housetops. But this favoritism 
didn't excite any envious feelings. A look around — on the bomb- 
plowed graveyard, in the fields with their newly torn shell holes, 
or at the town itself, every cellar window hidden behind sandbags 
— showed clearly that it was only a momentary good-naturedness, 
and — nobody suspected such feelings to be predominating very 
long. We were therefore all "keyed up" for the reception of the 
first "Jerry shell." We even wasted a precious half hour in the 

30 




31 



evening on it, before we ascended our chicken-cube bed. It was all 
in vain. 

But the German night raiders easily made up for this disap- 
pointment. Not a single night passed without the aeroplanes pay- 
ing us a visit. It became so frequent that it can only be termed 
boresome, and they were rather bothersome visitors at that. 

A whistle would cut through the night, notifying: "Jerry up." 
A few minutes after a whirr could be heard from their machines. 
When you went out, the searchlights would be visible creeping over 
the dark curtain to find the intruder. Some more machines, with 
a different engine-whirr, would appear. They carried small lights. 
They were ours. Now the real game starteci. Jerry would screw 
himself up higher and higher to escape. Ours would follow him 
mile after mile to get up on top, and the searchlights would con- 
tinue their silent investigation, now and then guided by a Morse 
signal from our planes. It sounded almost like machine gun fire. 
And, if they did find him, if he was all of a suciden caught in the 
rays — appearing in the distance as a beautiful fluttering silver- 
moth — the anti-aircraft, and machine gun fire would open up, and 
"pump" their lead and shrapnel at him, until a new Morse signal 
silenced them, and another plane — ours — sailed into the stage, to 
fight it out man against man. 

But often we didn't find him at all. Hidden in the night, he 
would make his exit, while suddenly two, three or four crashes from 
his exploding bombs would make the ground shake for miles. That 
was his good-bye, his cynical laughter over our failure. And — a 
failure is seldom pleasant! 

One of these bombs fell close to Division Headquarters picket 
line and killed several horses. Another close to our back yard; 
four of them about lOO yards from our camp at Montrelet and 
Fiffes, and about i8 in our district north of Doullens. Oh, they 
were generous those ciays ! 

The first nights everybody had the feeling that their pup tent 
— those miserable small things we daily cursed, because we couldn't 
even turn over in them — was a square mile at least. We would 
listen and listen, and finally get up to watch the fights. But human 
beings are strange animals. Even those thir.gs became insignifi- 
cant. A month after nobody would even lift their head Avhen the 
"anti-aircraft" barked. The war had done its work. The belief 
in "the shell with a name" had become a fixed idea. And sleep 
therefore meant sleep, Jerry or no Jerry. 

Our real work now started. Details were sent out to all the 
regiments of the Division, partly to keep order, partly to exer- 
cise trafiic control. As the artillery had been sent down to the 
American sector and the trains were still in Brest it meant to the 
Infantry, Engineers, Machine Gun Battalion, Signal Corps, Sani- 
tary, Divisional, and Headquarters Detachments. They were 

32 



scattered over an extensive area, and by the 25th of June we had 
therefore only a small force, includhig the General's Guard, in 
Beauval, while Doullens, Bonneville, Fiffes, Montrelet, Beaudrl- 
court, Sus St. Leger, Lucheux, le Souich, Bouquemaison, Grouches, 
Milly, Ht. Vissee, Ivergny and Luchuel were all taken over by 
our men. Our French gendarmes and the Interpreter, Mr. Boeg- 
ler, just assigned, remained at Beauval. 

Being the first time out on our own hook in a foreign coun- 
try, the first couple of days had their difficulties, arranging quar- 
ters and supplies. But the high quality of the men soon proved 
itself, and gave them the foundation for a "get-along-under-any- 
circumstances" habit, which is indispensable to a good outfit in the 
field — especially an M. P. organization. Any other military outfit 
is usually together, at least most of the time. In continual touch, 
under the immediate care and supervision of their officers. 

With an M. P. outfit, it is entirely different; if our case was 
rather extreme, as we never had more than four officers, where we 
should have had 9. An M. P. force is practically always scat- 
tered over a considerable area; in groups of 4 to 12 men, with 
one or more N. C. O.'s in charge. Owing to this, it is next to 
impossible for the officers to pay more than an occasional visit to 
the widely distributed posts, these soon becoming more or less in- 
dependent units, necessarily having to arrange all and everything 
themselves, and under all conditions. 

Under normal circumstances this, of course, is all simplified. 
But when the outfit is in action and the base location hardly known, 
when transportation of supply becomes the vital question because 
neither transports nor supplies are to be had; when the work is 
overwhelming, weary and dangerous; relief urgently needed, but 
not forthcoming; when the strain has settled itself as an intense 
irritation, and finally — when the campaign is being fought in a for- 
eign country, where the language at all times increases the diffi- 
culties — then the individual initiative and resourcefulness is the 
only deciding factor, and when the men of the 102nd M. P. came 
through such trying conditions with flying colors, their personal 
aggressiveness and tact deserve the highest praise. 

June 26th about 20 men left for the 4th English Army Corps 
M. P. School at Merieux, being recalled already on the 30th, as 
we were expected to move. And starting at midnight, July 1-2, 
the 27th Division pulled out, and set sail north, to take over a sec- 
tor on the Belgian front. 



33 



CHAPTER IV 

Our men attached to the 53rd Brigade left_over Candas those 
with the_54th Brigade from Doullens. All remained and traveled 
with their respective regiments. Getting off at Argues — some of 
the trains were greeted with shells near St. Paul — we marched 
through St. Omer to the assigned towns, St. Momelin, Lederzeele, 
Wulverdinghe, Arneke, Buyssheure, Broxeele, and Volkeringshove. 
Our Headquarters moved up with Division Headquarters and 
stayed at Nieurlet. F'rom that day and until September 3rd we 
were part of the 2nd British Army Corps (Headquarters at 
Argues). The table gives the exact composition of the entire 
force. 

The remembrance, which probably first will present itself, 
thinking of our three days' stay in these parts, will almost for cer- 
tain be St. Omer. It was the first large town we struck since our 
arrival in France, and incidentally it happened to be the last, too. 
Until we, around the time the armistice was being signed, settled 
down close to Amiens. 

The Fourth of July being considered a holiday, most of us 
had an opportunity to pay this old picturesque town a visit. A 
good dinner and a stroll in the streets (didn't we tell you there 
still were a few real streets left!) worked wonders. We began to 
believe that we, after all, were human beings; a thing we lately had 
doubted sincerely. And when we came back in the evening, over 
the shaky boardwalk bridge road through the swamps, we were — 
for the first time — treated to look at a barrage, even if it was quite 
some distance away. The bombardment represented the prepara- 
tory barrage over "Meteren," before the Australians, on the 5th 
and 6th, attacked this Important stronghold and wrested It from 
the Germans. Strange enough, though, we hadn't seen any Aus- 
sles at all, being so close to them. But they probably had enough 
to do where they were, and so we had to satisfy our craving for 
novelty, looking at the picturesque members of the Chinese labor 
corps, who were building roads and trenches everywhere in the 
neighborhood. 

As the question at that time continuously was asked why we 
were still only acting as reserves and not sent in to "do something." 
Why the — apparently — numerous English troops, likewise, were 
kept here and not brought to bear at the front, it is again neces- 
sary to try a short explanation of the ♦'hen dominating strategy. 

First, then, we were still a battle Division In the makir»g, be- 
mg gradually whipped Into battle trim, hardened up to meet the 

34 



crucial test. And besides — well, that will be explained, answering 
the next question. 

Second, the English troops we saw were not fresh men. They 
were the tired — dead tired — remains of the sorely tried and pun- 
ished Divisions already referred to, at last relieved, and out for 
rest and reorganization. This process lasted up to the middle of 
July. It was an unavoidable necessity, a step which just couldn't 
be delayed any longer, as all these Divisions were at the very point 
of cracking, and had almost lost their morale. Everything else 
could — at best — come in for a second consideration. 

As it therefore in reality was a mere playing for time, this 



32 Division 

33 

49 

30 


(American ) 


2 Corps 


2nd English Army Corps 

14, %, 97, 19 

98, 100, 146, 

147, 148, 

59, 60 (Amer.) Brig. 


14 Division 
39 




7 Corps 


41, 42, 43, 

116, 117, 118, Brig. 


29 Division 

30 

35 

36 




10 Corps 


86, 87. 88, 21. 
89, 90, 104, 
105, 106, 107, 
108, 109 Brg. 


9 Division 
31 
40 

1 


(Australian) 


15 Corps 


26, 27, 92, 93, 

94. 119, 120. 121, 

183, 184, 

1, 2, 3, 5 (Aust.) 

Brig. 


6 Division 
41 
27 


(American) 


19 Corps 


6. 16, 18, 71, 
122, 123, 124, 
53, 54 (Amer.) 
Brig. 



stage could fittingly be termed the period of active defense. The 
lines were accordingly thinly held. A sector of the British right 
flank taken over by the French, so as to further relieve men, when 
the Germans had finally been brought to a standstill in the Lys 
salient. Three more French Divisions were distributed in the 
back area, acting as an emergency reserve, together with the four 
American, and all the time the filling-up process was progressing 
favorably, by the now available English depot reserves. 

The success of our arms in the Near East made it possible to 
transfer additional troops to the western front (2 Egyptian Di- 
visions had just arrived and were camped near St. Omer). The 
extensive railroad and trench schedule had almost been completed. 
But the object was still rest and reorganization ! 

The beginning of July at last saw us in an assuring position, 

35 



ready and capable of small offensives. And the taking of "Me- 
teren" was the first undertaken on a larger scale since the trying 
months of April and May. 

July 7th Division Headquarters moved up to Oudezeele, our 
Headquarters following. Our camp was located at the crossroad 
northeast of the town, the exact location in military terms being: 
Sheet 27 — 1/40,000. J. 8. d. 7. 2. 

Our details still remaining with the regiments were camped in 
the surrounding country between Cassel and Wormhoudt, Led- 
ringhem and Abeele. It is impossible to give the whereabouts 
with any certainty, anyway not for more than a day at a time. 
They moved when their orphans moved, which meant daily. Every 
one of them can proudly, and without boasting, point at the map 
and say: "We have been everywhere." — They have! 

July 8-9th the Division took over what is known as the East 
Poperinghe or second line in the Mont-Kemmel sector. This line 
was under constant observation from Kemmel, and mercilessly 
shelled day and night. As our details again trailed the Division, 
every one of these men will probably be able to tell some little 
story about their feelings, thoughts, and narrow escapes from some 
inquisitive whiz-bang. There were plenty of them, so material for 
such a tale ought to be abundant. 

The first shell ! 

If it is a near-by: a sharp whistletone in the air. A crash, 
and an explosion with a peculiar, angry, "I-mean-business" detona- 
tion. A — anyway, the first couple of times — quick-as-lightning 
softening of the kneecap and an unconditional "down" — mud or 
no mud. 

If it is a back-area shell: another, more long-drawn whistle- 
tone. In one — the crash and explosion — way back. Somehow or 
other it always sounds as if the projectile landed in a wood, ending 
its travel in a bed of branches, these dimming the noise. It almost 
sounds pretty. 

But if it is a H. E. — one of those sweet things you don't hear 
until after the hit — then you just wonder that you are still alive. 
That's all. But it is a rather pleasant feeling at that — until the 
next hits — closer ! 

And, if the ordinary shell types were not excitement enough, 
there were always some unexpected gas shells to fall back on, or 
the "tat-tat" of a machine gun (popularly known as "the crazy 
carpenter"), but when that happened, one was sure to be uncom- 
fortably near the front line. Which, as it was often very difficult 
to detect on account of the underground warfare, only goes to show 
that even a machine gun has a mission. 

At our Headquarters at Oudezeele life was different. The 
close co-operation with the English set its mark. We had, up 
to then, been considered a rather neat-looking crew, usually com- 

36 



merited on both for our horses and general appearance. Our new 
surroundings changed this opinion entirely. 

Let us admit frankly that the "Tommie" in that respect has it 
all over us. Each nation has its good and bad points, and the way 
the English troops "turn out" is certainly most remarkable. We 
admit our inferiority, however, with a certain pride, as but four 
weeks in their company were sufficient to put our equipment in such 
a shape that it was highly commended by the English officers. 

But it naturally meant hard work. Accordingly, we began an 
intensive cleaning-up and polishing campaign, which, single-handed, 
would have won the war, if that had been the deciding factor. The 
craze grew to such an extent that one man is actually known to 
have -walked almost half a mile to buy a tooth brush, but as he was 
put in the guardhouse the same evening for being slightly intoxi- 
cated, this might account for it. Another expressed as his sincere 
belief that we would be ordered out to scrub the snow white in the 
winter. If it hadn't been for the intermediate drills or the schools 
we now had to attend, there is no saying to what heights we would 
have risen. Any polish manufacturer could have made a fortune 
on our products! But the schools, drills, and details saved us. 

Gasmask drill, especially, was vigorously practised. It ended 
up, after a month's preparation, with a graduation performance, 
which would have choked even Houdini. It consisted of 4 hours' 
continuous walk and work in the torture instrument. Let it be said, 
without going into further details, that 4 hours in a gasmask is just 
what Sherman said about war in general — hell ! 

But it soon proved to be a rather useful and necessary precau- 
tion. On August 5th a German night raider dropped one of their 
new inventions, an aeroplane gas bomb, near our camp. The wind 
fortunately blew the gas away, thus saving us from casualties. 
About the same time the schools opened their doors for our men. 

Some of our N. C. O.'s went to the gas-instructor's school at 
Merkeghem, two went to the O. T. S., some others to the cooking 
school at Pont Remy, and July 22nd, a few days after the arrival 
of our horses and bicycles, a detail of not less than 25 men left for 
the 2nd A. C, M. P. school at Camp Hamerhouck, near Cassel. 
Some of these schools were very good, and gave besides the prac- 
tical side of the course, daily lectures on this or that particular line, 
by experts on the various subjects. It gave us opportunities to 
study the "Tommies" at close range; get an idea of their way of 
doing things, backed up by their experience of four years of war. 
It was a great help in our training, and, invariably resulted in our 
men returning to camp with an entirely new vocabulary of Eng- 
lish, in which words as "Para(i)de" or "Carry-on" were predom- 
inating, at the same time immensely impressed by their acquaintance 
with one of the British Army's most picturesque figures — the Ser- 
geant-Maj (g)or. 

About a week later some 35 men went up to the 6th and 41st 

37 



English Divisions M. P. Headquarters for the same purpose. 
These Headquarters, the Divisions being in the hne, were situ- 
ated between Abeele — Poperinghe. It meant practical experience 
more than anything else, our men working in pairs with the English 
M. P.'s, and taking over all patrols, traffic, stragglers, and battle 
posts in the area. And the front area, at that time, was "no bon." 

It therefore didn't last very long before we had acquired some 
few valuable points as to how to exist in the shell-torn sector. They 
may be summed up in two well-known phrases : "it is no use putting 
your back up against a barrage, or even a lonesome 9.2," and "a 
man alive is, at any time, of more value than a dead." This not 
indicating that our men quit their posts when the shells came 
crashing down around them. To tell the truth, they usually stayed 
— when the Tommies jumped for the dugout. We believe that 
these were the days we began to feel an increasing and justified pride 
in our profession, hitherto often referred to as a "soft job." This 
feeling originated when we all of a sudden found ourselves alone 
in the landscape with some exploding whiz-bangs, while the sol- 
diers we had just been talking to quickly disappeared to seek shelter 
in the ruins or trenches. The M. P.'s face death just as often as 
anybody else; it is only the forms of the rendezvous which are dif- 
ferent. 

Still waiting for the expected German attack, waging the 
agreed-on "active defense" campaign, and with time working in 
our favor, the end of July found a marked change in everything. 

The aeroplane branch provided the most visible and convinc- 
ing proofs. There the situation had been completely reversed. 
Now it was "Fritz" who was bombed day and night, while his 
planes were hopelessly outnumbered and beaten before they even 
crossed "the line." His night raids, accordingly, became more and 
more rare. 

The process of refilling and reorganizing the British forces 
had been completed; 52 strong divisions were available. Our su- 
periority in artillery and tanks was growing every day. And, as 
the weight of the American forces at last began to tell, the Ger- 
mans, on July 15th, started their new — and last — drive, east and 
southeast of Rheims, made some progress, and — were held. This 
meant the climax and change in the fortunes of the war. 

It meant that the Germans had made their final effort, and 
failed. That their maximum strength had been passed, their re- 
serves almost used up. July i8th General Foch launched his great 
counter-attack, and as soon as it was well under way, progressing 
favorably, the English began their drive on the entire front from 
Montdidier — Albert, clearing Amiens and the Paris-Albert rail- 
road. Another blow was struck at Arras, La Basse, and the Lys 
salient. It was the last two which affected us and our operations. 
From August 7th to 14th King George of England inspected 

38 




39 



the 2nd Army Corps and the Flanders area. It meant several 
"spic-and-span" turnouts for us, guarding and patrolling the roads 
over which the royal escort were expected to proceed. We also 
sent representatives to the big open field-mass at Terdeghem, a 
memorial sermon for the 4th anniversary of the beginning of the 
war. A sermon which might have ended dramatically as German 
planes spotted the congregation, and doubtless would have ignored 
that it was a church service if our planes had not driven them away. 

Sunday the iith we had a local horse show at our camp at 
Oudezeele. It was probably the first of its kind held by any A. E, 
F. forces abroad, and — as already referred to — won the 102nd 
M. P. much well-deserved praise and comment. Next day an- 
other 35 men left for the 6th and 41st Headquarters at the front, 
these two being considered the most valuable training grounds for 
our men, giving us the full benefit of experience under actual battle 
conditions. We were naturally only too glad for the opportunity 
offered, especially as we expected to take over some sector in the 
front line any minute. 

But the training grounds east of the Droglandt road, known 
as the gas alert zone, was also a dangerous vacation district. 
South of our sector, our observers, for some time, had watched the 
enemy removing his advance ammunition dumps to the rear. This 
removal causing a marked decrease in artillery fire. On our front 
we were not that fortunate. There, on the contrary, it looked as 
if they preferred shooting away what they had instead of remov- 
ing it. What looked like a sensible scheme at that, if it wasn't 
because it is rather unpleasant when you happen to be in the area 
where the excess dumping is going on. And artillery fire there 
was. Unceasingly they shelled every trench where it looked as if 
some work was going on, every patrol or dispatch rider who 
exposed himself to their watchful eyes. Not only from Mt. Kem- 
mel, the German batteries there having the advantage of a perfect 
observation, but from the northern front as well, especially in the 
Nieuwpoort dunes sector. If really our artillery fire was so su- 
perior in marksmanship and quantity as the German prisoners said 
it is easily understood why they so willingly surrendered. Their 
fire could be uncomfortable enough. 

The Steenvoorde road, our main artery for supplies, ^yas 
probably the one which suffered most — especially in the evening 
between 5 and 1 1, these hours being the busy hours for the supply 
detachment at the front. But the Wateau, Abeele, Poperinghe 
roads were equally bad, and as we had mounted patrols and traf^c 
posts on all these roads day and night, the narrow escapes were 

many. 

Our Infantry, and Engineer details, who all this time had 
stuck doggedly to their respective outfits, had equally hard times. 
Forth and back they followed their Regiment hke shadows. In 

40 



some cases they even went over the top with the nifantry, being 
without definite orders as to what to do during raids or attacks. 
In others, they voluntarily left for the rear and brought up ammu- 
nition or supplies to their friends in the trenches, thus materially 
helping to bring about the remarkable rev^elation we gradually ex- 
perienced, being considered friends and useful, instead of a "neces- 
sary evil." 

These men, as said, have covered almost every inch of ground 
on the map. They have slept near Dickebush Lake and in Steen- 
voorde wood, names like Wippenhock, Reninghelst, la Clyte, Ou- 
derdom, Scherpenberg, Lijssenthoek, and Steen-Akker sound as 
familiar to them as Fifth Avenue and Forty-second Street to a 
New Yorker. 

About this time, or Aug. 20-25th, reorganization rumors made 
their appearance in camp. The P. M. G. had just begun the re- 
organization of all M. P. units of the A. E. F. in FVance; each out- 
fit to consist of I Captain (acting P. M.), i first, 2 second lieuten- 
ants, and 200 men. The prevailing uncertainty as to the result of 
this naturally created some temporary unrest and dissatisfaction, 
but fortunately we left for the front on Aug. 24th, distributed at 
Jebb Camp, Trappist Farm, and Douglas Camp, for a while for- 
getting all about the rumors. Our removal to the front area meant 
that the English M. P.'s from the 6th and 41st Divisions were 
withdrawn (a few days later taking over the sector south of us), 
leaving us in undisputed possession of their former area, more pre- 
cisely the former 6th Division sector. The 27th Division at the 
same time, or rather on August 21st, taking over the front of the 
Dickebush line, covered by 30th (American) Division on the left, 
and 34th (English) on the right, 6th and 41st acting as reserves. 
The change in the line-up was completed at a time when great 
things were going on along the entire front. Right south of us, 
in the Lys salient we had made appreciable progress. The contin- 
uous "nibbling" north and south of the salient, had done it's work. 
It began to give way! Aug. 19th English troops entered Merville, 
kept up the pressure, finally resulting in the enemy's general re- 
treat on the night of Aug. 29-30th. From our camps up north we 
watched the fires from his burning stores and dumps all of that 
night, and as he evacuated Bailleul Aug. 30th and our scouts now 
reported suspicious activities behind Mt. Kemmel, a general ad- 
vance was ordered Aug. 31st, our Division attacking in the direc- 
tion of Vierstaat Ridge, southeast of Dickebush Lake. 

The German Divisions opposite our sector that last week were 
the 236th, 8th, 53rd and 52nd Infantry Divisions, covered north 
by the 6th Cavalry and ist Landwehr Division, south by the 22nd 
Rifle and iith Reserve Division. The i6th (Bavarian), 207th, 
31st, 1 8th and 58th were possible reserves, all being part of Prinz 

41 



Ruprecht's forces, and belonging to the Fourth German Army, 
under General v. Arnam. 

Events soon proved that our scouts were right. The enemy 
really had begun his withdrawing, but he had left a strong rear 
guard of machine gun detachments to cover the retreat, these again 
covered by numerous field pieces, and aided by an intense cloud 
screen. Our advance was therefore, slow, hesitating, and cau- 
tious, so as to minimize the unavoidable losses as far as possible. 

By Sept. 2nd we held a line running through Voormezeele, 
Snipers Bahn, and the outskirts of Wytschaete to receive orders on 
Sept. 3rd to withdraw for a rest, and new adventures at some other 
part of the line. 

The whole affair, ending up in a forced, still partly voluntary, 
retreat, and not taking shape of an actual breaking-through battle, 
didn't give us the full opportunity to show our real metal. But it 
did offer us a wonderful practical training during the trying 5 
weeks In the front area, and made us familiar with the intricate 
details of the work at the front, hampered to a certain degree by 
the English supervision which, for instance, made the prisoner-of- 
war question, during the advance, rather complicated. 

It was on one of the prisoners we found a map (we found 
hundreds of them later on), for the first time having a red dotted 
line, indicating: Der Gelandegewin bis zum Einsetzen der P'eind- 
lichen Gegenoffensiven, July 17, 19 18. 

Was it an omen? 

Did they finally realize that they had reached their limits? 




42 



CHAPTER V 

Withdrawing on the 3rd of September, we stayed in Oude- 
zeele over night. Next morning at 4 o'clock we marched to Pro- 
ven, entrained, and left Belgium. But we didn't go alone ! 

We brought with us some new friends we had made. Some 
real friends who just refused to be left behind, and laughed at our 
well-meant objections — the cooties ! 

AVe had met them in some dugout, tent, or Nissenhut on a 
cold night. They had found our company pleasant and comfort- 
able, and made up their minds to stay. And as we didn't have any 
means — water being worth gold — to start an active campaign so 
as to prevent their entrenching warfare, they finally had it their way 
— and stayed ! 

Now cooties are not pleasant companions. To tell the truth, 
they are rather bothersome. They proved it satisfactorily on our 
trip from Belgium. And they never lost this reputation, until the 
showers in Le Mans had drowned the very last. 

Over Calais, Bologne, Doullens we proceeded to Candas, 
spending most of the time on the train in a deathlike sleep. En- 
training at Candas Sept. 5th, we hiked, hiked, or rode to Bouquesne, 
this town being designated as our Headquarters, and thus found 
ourselves returning to well-known camping grounds, as Beauval 
was only a few miles away. 

We were now part of the Third British Army and attached 
to the 2nd American Corps, a fact which didn't prevent the reor- 
ganization rumors from gaining fresh ground and getting more 
persistent than ever. Depression and uncertainty was therefore 
again in the air, but until further it only resulted in a detail of 25 
men leaving for the 2nd Corps, located at Beauval. 

Details left for all the 27th Division towns: Doullens, Hal- 
loy, Famechon, Thierres, Orville, Amplier, Authieule, Fresche- 
villers, Terramisnil, Caumesuil, Raincheval, and Puchevillers. Our 
mounted patrols and bicycle details took care of the roads. The 
102nd Train Headquarters, to which we had formerly belonged, 
severed the connections, consolidated themselves as an independent 
office. This resulted in several changes of the commanding officer 
— finally settled by the appointment of Colonel Taylor. 

Sept. iS-iQth we were called on to participate in a big ma- 
neuver. The problem consisted in distribution and replacing of 
forces, the arrangement of dispatch and communication service dur- 
ing an imaginary advance through a "spent" Division, taking over 
their line, and continue their advance. The advance starting out 

43 



from Berneuil, where Division Headquarters was supposed to be 
situated, driving eastwards. The days previously, tank attacks, 
alone or in connection with Infantry, had been demonstrated for 
the Division. Ihere couldn't therelore be very much doubt as to 
what the whole arrangement meant. It meant back to the line — 
and "toot sweet" ! Back, under entirely new conditions, to a place 
where open field fighting was the menu of the day. An informa- 
tion, which in itself didn't give much of a hint as to where that 
would be, as the Germans everywhere were on the retreat. A 
guess, however, was permitted. 

The best and most deadly point for a break-through at- 
tack would be a point bringing us dangerously close to their depot 
centers and retreat line. Wherefore, as everybody knows that 
Maubeuge was the pivot, and cork in the bottle neck leading back to 
the Rhine, it logically ought to be somewhere between Queant and 
St. Quentin. Ihis — to use a boxing phrase — would be "a right 
uppercut to the jaw." 

The prospects for the success of such a drive seemed justified, 
as the operations against "the Hindenburg switch," east of Cam- 
brai, on Sept. 2, had been extraordinarily successful. 

It would sever the German communications to an unbearable 
degree, and, if progressing as we hoped, practically cut the German 
Army in two — provided they didn't retreat in time. 

The guess proved to be fairly right. Sept. 23rd we entrained 
from Authieule, spent an arctic-cold night in our well-known box 
cars, gently comforted by the cooties, to find ourselves next morn- 
ing (24th), shivering and half starved, in the wrecked ruins of 
what was formerly a town called Tincourt. German signboards, 
everywhere, stared into our eyes. Gas sifted from sewers and 
water-filled shell craters, filling the air with a peculiar smell, which 
spelled danger. Human bodies or horse carcasses stuck out from 
beneath the brick piles; here an arm, there a leg. Sometimes it 
looked as if the arm or leg was all that was left. Maybe it was, 
who knows? 

A driving rain broke loose. We formed and marched north. 
The bicycles stuck or clogged up in the deep mud, so that this de- 
tachment soon was left behind, most of the way carrying the im- 
practical steel horses on their backs with the rest of their equip- 
ment. But the rest kept up the march through another brick and 
lumber pile — once the town of Longavesness — north over roads 
sown with deserted Jerry-dugouts, arms and gasmasks, and at last 
arrived at Aizecourt las Bas about 7 A. M.; our headquarters for 
a day or two. 

Our mounted men had already arrived the night before. They 
left Beauquesne the 21st with the Division transports and trains 
using the Amiens Highway, moving at night and resting during 

44 



45 




shows German line. Fig. I the situation before the attack. 
Fig. II by Octol)er 2nd 




45 



the day, to avoid discovery. It was an imposing convoy, composed 
of some 600 vehicles and 2,200 animals, stayed over at Bray the 
first day, arrived at St. Denis on the 23rd, dispersed, our men pro- 
ceeding to Templeux la Fosse, and leaving again at daybreak for 
our assigned camp site at Aizecourt le Bas, where we met them. 

Finding another big assortment of German dugouts and piles 
of sheetiron near our camp, it didn't take us long to make life 
comfortable. Our requirement at that stage being only a hole in 
the ground for shrapnel and bombshelter and our shelterhalf, or 
some of the ironsheets over, to protect us against the rain. It 
most probably wouldn't appeal to the average man under normal 
conditions, but to us it looked like a five-room apartment with bath. 

At that it must have appeared rather picturesque, situated as it 
was on a hillside. A near-sighted professor would have stopped 
to examine this new specie of field rats or moles, which was about 
what it looked like. A German military graveyard just around 
the roadbend and the restless walking around of the "Fieldgray" 
in the Prisoner of War cage at the foot of the hill cheerfully re- 
minding us "they" too had their hardships and casualties. A 
thing we didn't doubt for a minute. We sincerely hoped so ! And 
again our never-ceasing patrol — traflic — and guard duty began, 
meeting difl'iculties exceeding our previous experiences by hundreds 
and hundreds of per cent. The towns, rather the crossroads, for 
the towns hardly existed, of Lieramount, Saulcourt, Longavesnes, 
Templeux la Fosse, Villers-Faucon, St. Emilie, Marquaix, Tin- 
court, and Roisel were "besetzst," as the Germans call it. And our 
German was improving immensely. The Division Headquarters 
detail left for Bois de Buire, where Headquarters resided, and an 
advance-guard for the Templeux le Guerard district, where the 
Division Prisoner of War cage would be located when the attack 
started. And there was no doubt either that it was going to be 
some battle too. 

The roads were jammed with traffic. Men and more men, 
horses and still more horses, lorries and ever so many more lorries, 
ambulances, ammunition, supply and guns roared and boiled there 
as a river, ceaselessly, day and night, moving to and from the 
front. 

Sept. 27th our main body moved up to the Chalkpits at Tem- 
pleux (F. 26. d, 8. 3.), now almost "comfortable," as the German 
line had been pressed back some the last few days, meaning that 
only about eight shells crashed into the dale behind every five min- 
utes. And that isn't much — if they don't hit. A new assortment 
of German dugouts were selected and inhabited. The white paint 
for the expected Jerry prisoners got a last stir; and the evening 
of the 28th found us strong and ready, although shivering with 
cold, on the threshold — that at least we knew — of a big battle. 

46 



But no man's land is a goblin sight 

When patrols crawl over at dead o' night ; 

Boche or Belgian, British or French, 

You dice with death when you cross the trench. 

When the "rapid," like fire-flies in the dark. 

Flits down the parapet spark by spark. 

And you drop for cover to keep your head 

With your face on the breast of the four months' dead. 

This is not meant to be a finished description of the battle, for 
which our space is too hmited and our words too colorless, but I 
wonder if we will ever forget the hell-like change from the com- 
parative quietness up to five-fifty that morning, to the nerve-break- 
ing noise when the barrage opened up. The nervous tension and 
restlessness which caught everybody with an iron grip, knowing 
that our infantry had left the jumping-off trench, gone over the top, 
and started out on their dangerous adventure. 

The wonderful color scheme, produced by the daybreak, the 
smoke, the signal-flares, shell explosions, mud, and dust clouds, and 
— the overworked imagination. The whir of the aeroplanes go- 
ing over "the line," the scraping sound from the long row of tanks, 
when they threw their mammoth bodies over the nearest crest and 
wrung their way forwards through the noise and smoke com- 
pound, as a procession of pre-historic monsters, creaking and 
puffing under the strain. 

The smell — sour, sticky, unexplainable — strangely reminding 
you of the breeze which swept down on you from the scene, when 
you witnessed your first theater performance. 

And later 

The hatred and pain you felt when some of ours — men, ani- 
mals or machines — were hit. 

The sight of the endless, heart-breaking line of wounded, 
painfully dragging themselves to the rear, or being brought in on 
a blood-dripping stretcher, maimed and dirty beyond recognition, 
unbroken in spirit, and with an ever-ready smile. 

No Zola or Flaubert could ever write it, because no words 
are strong enough. No painter — well, Veretchagin came close, 
but, then again, pictures don't move. 

And this is all movements, changes in expression and posi- 
tions. Ugly, terrible, nightmare changes in this cruel, sardonic 
battle with death. And then — the discovery — a discovery, which 
usually comes very late — that you yourself are in a condition of a 
half daze, which, invisible to others and hardly noticed by your- 
self, makes you almost unconscious of the dangers, covers your 
nerves with an unexplainable "something" which makes you proof 
against the horrors around you, dopes you to forget, and hardly 
think about things which otherwise would make the gamest sick to 
the core. 

That you, practically unaffected, are doing your work, fever- 

47 



ishly looking for any and all opportunities to lend a hand, not only 
because your heart is in it and you want to do your bit, but because 
it is the only way to minimize a dreadful feeling of helplessness 
which tortures your heart, seeing all the suffering around you and 
being so utterly at bay, as to how to relieve it. 

But — to leave the fiction part of it, and consider the military 
problem, the battle of Sept. zg-joth, best known as the battle for 
the Hindenburg Line — really started on the 27th, or, to be very 
correct, on the night of the 26-27th, when a heavy bombardment 
opened up along the whole front of the I, III and IVth English 
Army Corps, followed by a preliminary attack by the I and III 
Corps, so as to deceive the enemy as to the place where the real 
attack would fall. On the 27th the two American divisions (the 
27th and 30th), now part of the IVth English Army Corps, rein- 
forced and supported with tanks and covered by the usual artillery 
and machine gun barrage, attempted some minor attacks, whose 
only object was to straighten out some bends in our line and dis- 
lodge the enemy from his strong advance posts in front of the St. 
Quentin Canal, an important link in the "Hindenburg-stellung." 
Our efforts were especially concentrated around Guillemont and 
Quennemont farms, and succeeding in these operations which doubt- 
less prepared the Germans for what was coming — an information 
they couldn't use to much advantage, as the unceasing bombard- 
ment kept them in the dugouts and tunnels, and made it almost im- 
possible for them to bring up supplies — the 28th was used as a 
rest-day before the big attack. At 5 :^o in the morning on Septem- 
ber 29th the real battle started. A battle which unfortunately 
was going to cost the Division so dear, but at the same time give 
us a glorious name. The German Divisions opposite our front 
were the 2nd Prussian Guard — 232d, 54th, 185th, 121st and 75th 
I. D., and on the second day the 24th and 34th. Two of these 
Divisions had been reorganized, so that for instance 153rd Infantry 
Regiment — our old friends from Mt. Kemmel and then part of the 
8th Prussian Division — now was part of the 121st. 

North and south the 21st, 20th and 5th Reserve Divisions 
were to be found, while the Alpine Corps — 202d, io8th, 50th, 
243rd, 232nd, 80th and 13th Divisions — who most of them had 
been in the line previous to our appearance — were possible reserves. 

On our side the 27th and 30th American, 3rd and 5th Aus- 
tralian, and 46th, 1st and 6th Divisions of the 9th British Corps 
participated, covered by the 4th and 5th Corps of the 3rd British 
Army Corps on our left, and the 10th French Army on our right. 
As the battle is history and probably later on will be described in 
full by men in possession of all the necessary information, it is use- 
less to go into too mai\y details, but — as the position, by the ex- 
perts, has been claimed to be one of the very strongest in the Hin- 
denburg system — it is only fair to give an idea of the obstacles 

48 




49 



which had to be overcome. Our line, on the morning of the 29th, 
ran approximately as indicated on the accompanying map. The 
27th Division facing Bony and Mt. St. Martin, the 12th and i8th 
(Engineers), Vendhuille, further north; 30th Division, BeUicourt 
and Nanroy; the 46th (Enghsh), BellengUse, and the ist and 
6th (Enghsh) Division further south, with the 3rd and 5th Aus- 
tralians moving up close behind the Yankee Divisions, who were 
expected to meet the hardest resistance. 

A canal called the St. Quentin Canal ran parallel with the front 
in its entire length, passing through an underground tunnel from 
Vendhuille to Bellecourt, and from there on and south gradually 
working its way out until it, a little north of Bellenglise, reaches 
practically level soil. From BeUicourt, and for about a mile, the 
canal cutting is very steep, at some places some 75 feet, but — con- 
trary to general belief — the canal itself was hardly meant to be the 
main defense line, but only drawn in as a valuable link in their 
deep defense system, extending from the first barbed-wire line, 2,000 
yards west of the canal, to the Beaurevoir-Fonsomme positions, 
located about a mile behind the original Hindenburg line running 
through the sugar factory northeast of Nanroy. 

The tunnel itself was a roomy and bombproof shelter for 
troops at rest, at the same time serving as shelter during the pre- 
liminary bombardment for the trench forces, being connected with 
these by numerous shafts and tunnels, while naturally the top of 
the canal cuttings were sown with machine gun emplacements, both 
of the concrete and open-field type. 

Another wire entanglement ran 1,000 yards behind the first 
line, immediately in front of the canal, both of them covered by 
the machine guns on the canal edge, and the numerous minor de- 
fense behind and between, all of it under direct fire from the origi- 
nal Hindenburg positions and Beaurevoir-Fonsomme line. 

The whole system extended to a depth of almost 12,000 yards. 
After our first set-back, caused by a deadly enfilading machine gun 
fire from the towns, which had been passed through too quickly by 
our gallant, fast-advancing infantry, nothing could stop us. The 
St. Quentin Canal was crossed, the impregnable Hindenbur!^ line 
broken from le Catelet to Lesdin, a terrible hole dented in the Ger- 
man defense system, and the pressure so unceasingly forced home 
that October 2nd saw us in possession of Goye, Lormisset, Wian- 
court, Ramicourt, Precelles, and Levergies, in a rather uncomfort- 
able position, that's true, harassed as we were by the German ar- 
tillery, now taking due advantage of their opportunity to punish 
our left flank, but confident as to the final result, knowing as we did 
that we could count on reserves. 

How terrible the German losses had been can best be ascer- 
tained by the fact that the 54th Division and what was left of the 
2nd Prussian Guard were all that was still in the line of the Enemy 

50 




51 



Divisions which had faced us on the opening day, the vacant places 
being taken over by the 21st, 119th (part), 84th, 241st and 25th 
Reserve Divisions. 

And on the 2nd of October the Division returned to the back 
area for a much-needed rest, leaving the stage for somebody else 
for a few days. 

As the physiognomy, objects, and results of the battle have 
now been given, it is about time to memorize our part in "the big 
stunt." 

Of course, we all had an idea from the Belgian front what 
M. P.'s meant to the success and welfare of a modern army. But 
then again, our engagements there had only been minor operations 
compared with this. Now we knew! 

The way we kept the traffic going was — so we have been told 
by the authorities — excellent, to say the least. And, don't forget, 
the M. P.'s have a far better chance to be blamed than commended 
for their work. Everything goes right; well, that is only what is 
expected, and, naturally, does not extract any praise. 

But — things may go wrong! A direct hit changes a lorry to 
kindling-wood, sends the horses down in a sprawling heap. The 
traffic is blocked. 

It is not your fault, sure enough, but when Authority appears 
on the scene, the chances are nine out of ten that the verdict in- 
variably will be guilty. It is only human judgment, one of the 
curses of our service. 

When our outfit could go through an affair like the Hinden- 
burg battle with a traffic-congestion as the one we met those days, 
hampered by the intense shell fire, the muddy, worn-out roads and 
natural, ever-present nervousness and confusion, without any seri- 
ous breakdowns, it is more than luck — it is efficiency. 

There is no reason in the world concealing that onr traffic 
men, mounted and dismounted patrols, straggler, and battlepost 
details, who, stretched out over the entire area covering Tincourt, 
Roisel, Templeux le Guerard, Saulcourt, Villers-Faucan, St. Emille, 
Lempire, Basse-Boulogne, Ronssoy, and Duncan post, the connect- 
ing roads, including those leading forward into enemy territory as 
far as it was possible to go, and who all lent a hand to this all- 
important question, did work which was imminent in its morbid, 
ceaseless execution, and placed the 102nd M. P. on par with any 
similar organization, anywhere, regardless of nationality, or what- 
ever advantage they might have of more experience. 

Our handling of prisoners — also commented on — must like- 
wise have been very good. Unlike our English, French, or Aus- 
tralian colleagues, our men, following our infantry closely, imme- 
diately relieved these of their prisoners, escorted them to the Di- 
vision cage, from which they were sent to the Corps Cage after 
due searching, marking, registering, and identification. Some 14 
officers and 600 men was our Division's share. While a job we 

52 



all silently hated — collecting and handing over to the respective 
Headquarters of "stragglers" — was made pleasantly easy for us 
by the almost incredible small number of such we encountered. 

These being our assigned duties — besides, of course, as always 
being considered a living information bureau, expected to know the 
locations of the numerous Division, Brigade, Regimental, Battery, 
and Battalion Headquarters, the whereabouts of this or that Army 
unit in the line, even down to Platoons or Companies, the positions 
of Batteries, Supply and Ammunition Dumps, Ambulance Com- 
panies and Dressing Stations — a problem which in itself is ex- 
tremely difficult, as such locations often change three or four times 
a day during a battle— these being our assigned duties, our men, 
however, didn't stop there. 

Dead tired from want of sleep — for our outfit was taxed so 
heavily that relief was practically impossible, and 48 to 72 hours 
at a stretch was a rule rather than an exception; starving, for in a 
battle like this, the rations for the human material is only second 
consideration- — our men would continuously be found everywhere, 
aiding the walking wounded on the dreary, painful way to the 
Dressing Stations, trying to comfort them and cheer them up, lo- 
cating the dead bodies or unfortunate wounded who had fallen in 
some obscure, hidden place, where they might otherwise have de- 
tected discovery and help. Clearing the roads of their sorrowful 
obstacles of dead bodies of men or horses, of the splintered lorries, 
gun carriages, tanks, or field pieces. The 102nd M. P.'s won the 
doughboys' admiration on those very days, and — we do not con- 
sider a higher reward possible. 

As our casuals at the front on those strenuous days only con- 
sisted of seven slightly wounded or gassed, we would indeed have 
been a happy bunch when we were finally withdrawn, if an incident, 
which for once makes us break our rule of not mentioning any 
names, had not weighed heavily on our minds — the death of Cal- 
lahan. 

Guarding an important crossroad near Saulcourt, he was hit 
by an aeroplane bomb about 7 o'clock in the evening on Sept. 26th 
from one of the numerous German night raiders who harassed our 
lines of communications day and night, on the days previous to the 
attack. We are happy to know — when he did have to pay the ex- 
treme sacrifice — that he died instantly. He was buried the follow- 
ing day at Templeux la F'osse with military honors, and his memory 
will be treasured by all of us as a splendid comrade and fine soldier. 



53 



CHAPTER VI 

Relieved by the Australians at midnight, October i-2nd, we 
remained in the Templeux Quarry until 8 A. M., October 2nd. A 
detail was left at Ronssoy to pick up possible stragglers. Our per- 
manent Division Headquarters details remained at Bois de Buire 
and Tincourt. The rest of the outfit retired to Aizecourt le Bas, 
next morning proceeding to Peronne — as we thought, for a long 
rest. 

Peronne was, of course, the usual heap of ruins. The former 
Cathedral, so famous and beautiful, a mere mountain of brick, 
marble and colored glass fragments. The tumbledown pillars and 
century-old woodwork giving a faint idea of its former splendor- — 
and the extent and quality of German "kultur." 

In some houses, which — miracuously — had stood up during 
the bombardments, we put up for the night for a change and nov- 
elty sleeping in German-made beds, found stored away in the cel- 
lars. VVhen we had put them together we turned in and enjoyed 
the first good night's sleep in nine days, undisturbed by inquisitive 
bombs, "toot-sweeters," "whiz-bangs," or "coal-boxes." It was 
very kind, "Fritz" ; we thank you ! We fooled you that time ! 

Our rest, however, shouldn't be long. Things were going so 
favorably that it was only a matter of keeping up the pressure, pre- 
vent the enemy from getting the rest he so sorely needed, and the 
crack was bound to come, sooner or later. 

The following day, therefore, already saw us in activity again. 
A mounted detail returned to Ronssoy, picked up the detail there 
and advanced to Villeret (or Hargicourt — it was almost impossible 
to distinguish). Another went to la Chapelette, reporting to the 
II American Corps Replacement Camp. 

October 5th saw our Headquarters in Roisel, quartered in an 
old condemned English Prisoner of War cage, again listening to the 
familiar sound of the 4.2, 5.9, 7.5 and 9.2's, mixed with an occa- 
sional aeroplane bomb around 10 P. M. as a fitting period for the 
day's diary. 

And October 6th, Tincourt, Roisel, Herville, Hesbecourt, 
Jeancourt, Templeux le Guerard, Hargicourt, Villeret, le Verguier, 
and all important crossroads and road switches were covered by our 
men once more. 

The shelling in the area was worse than ever. The Germans 
still held on stubbornly north of le Catelet and shelled the country 
mercilessly and with an accuracy, easily explained by their long resi- 
dence, before we took over the flat. Walls and covers were razed 

54 




55 



away with a regularity far from assuring. Those were indeed the 
days of miraculous escapes. 

Doubtless our problem and success in keeping the traffic going 
on the all-depending "plank road" from Villeret-Hargicourt to 
Bellecourt was at that time our finest achievement. "The Plank- 
road" — as the name indicates — was a rough, lumber-bridge road 
laid out over the swamps, replacing the old roads leading east from 
Hargicourt, these being either worn out, destroyed or useless on ac- 
count of fire. It was practically the only road over which the supply 
for at least five Divisions (among these the 30th American, pre- 
paring for a new advance on the 8th) with an artillery running into 
thousands of guns, could be brought up. It was a problem calling 
for a cool head, initiative, and nerves of steel. 

The traffic was tremendous; slow beyond despair. The two 
opposite-moving animal and truck lines could hardly pass each other. 
Sometimes they would come to a dead stop, when a vehicle slid out 
from the boards into a shell crater. Sometimes to a halt for a full 
hour when a shell hit the road, splintering men, mules, horses and 
lorries, and barred the way for the thousands behind, anxiously 
scouting for the next shell, while they impatiently waited for the 
ambulances and repair crew to make up for the damage. Fortu- 
nately the direct hits were comparatively few. But that the enemy 
didn't put down a barrage the entire length of the road will prob- 
ably forever remain a mystery to all concerned, so much more as 
they were in a position to do so — their line running almost parallel 
with the road from le Catelet to Montbrehain. They, without a 
doubt, knew its importance and the immense congestion, that the 
destruction would mean a serious breakdown of communication for 
our attacking forces; only a paralyzing confusion on his own part 
seems to explain the enemy's failure to take full advantage of this 
remarkable opportunity. 

October 7th Headquarters moved up to Bellicourt, leaving 
most of our details where they were. As we remained there a few 
days, we had time to look around and explore. The St. Quentin 
tunnel naturally being the first object for investigation. It was here 
it dawned on us how low the morale was getting in the Imperial 
Army, because that such positions could be taken was almost beyond 
belief. But the graveyard was probably the place attracting the 
most attention. It was the first time we had seen Jerry use graves 
as dugouts. Deliberately blown them up, thrown the corpses out 
and "entree" — all ready for the tenant. All provided that it wasn't 
too much bother getting the dead owner up — in which case, he just 
stayed. Why, it was only a dead corpse ! 

Tt was in Bellecourt, too, we discovered that rats are intelli- 
gent, almost in possession of "musical sense." Yes, sir! 

They know the difference between a "whiz-bang" and a "toot- 
sweeter." Knew that ordinnrily the last meant some kind of bar- 

S6 



0) 

.S 

P 

C 

c 



<v 
x: 

a 
o 







' — 1 T * \ 













57 



rage fire, that what was left of the house most likely would crash 
down In a few minutes. Accordingly they squeaked miserably when 
the first "toot" whistled in the air. It sounded ugly — especially if 
the rat was gassed; but it didn't keep us awake many minutes at 
that. 

And all this time we slowly but surely pressed the enemy back, 
now in a slight northeasterly direction. The 30th Division, fight- 
ing with the 66th and 25th (English), took Brancourt, Serain, 
and Fremont on October 8th. On the 9th we passed through or 
entered Busigny, Becquigny, Escaufourt, and Bohain, clearing the 
area in front of this new line to such an extent that the important 
St. Quentin-Busigny-Cambrai railroad was available by October 
1 2th, and following the advance closely, our mounted and dis- 
mounted men — reinforced by our details left behind and now called 
in (except the Roisel, Division Headquarters and Replacement de- 
tail) — in the same space of time crept up through Nanroy, Estrees, 
Magny, Joncourt, Waincourt, Precelles, and Levergies to Rami- 
court, Montbrehain, and Brancourt. 

The evening of October i ith a dispatch rider notified the dif- 
ferent units to report at Brancourt next day. October 12th found 
the entire outfit assembled there. 

Meantime, a considerable change in our surroundings had 
taken place. Previously we had fought in country over which the 
fortunes of victory had wavered forth and back, completely eras- 
ing and annihilating every sign of previous life. 

With our entrance of Estrus-Joncourt these conditions 
changed. The country we now operated in had for four years un- 
disputed been under the German yoke. The civilian population, 
provided useless for any military purpose, had been permitted to 
remain, being more valuable for the German Army this way, to be 
sent to the rear hurriedly when we forced them to withdraw. As 
our artillery, as far as possible, spared the towns, the houses there 
offered considerably better quarters than we were used to. The 
hurried retreat left beds and mattresses for our convenience, chairs, 
tables and stoves, in one case even a piano, from which Chopin, Mo- 
zart, Beethoven, and ragtime floated out in the night for four hours 
straight, relief immediately being provided when the artist threat- 
ened to break down under the strain. Brancourt was typical of a 
town in this stage. But was the town itself fairly well pre- 
served, the outskirts easily made up for it; especially south of the 
town, near the civilian and German military graveyards. The 
sights there gave ample answers why German machine gunners were 
such rare specimens in our P. of W. batches. Crew after crew was 
lying killed in a heap over their guns. They were our enemies and 
had doubtless caused us heavy losses, but it was impossible but to 
admire them, and wonder what the rest of the Imperial army would 

58 




59 



do if they didn't have men like these to cover their retreat and delay 
our adv^ance. 

As Captain Ackerly had been transferred to the 107th Infan- 
try, Captain Dieges from the 102nd Engineers took over the va- 
cancy, and the same evening, already late, our exhausted men had to 
pull out again, as we received orders to have Bohain, Busigny and 
Becquigny covered before 5 :45 next morning. About midnight the 
60 men left. It was a nasty trip, pitch dark, raining and cold. 
Walking straight for Bohain, the Fremont road being momentarily 
shelled, they fell in the shell holes continuously, stumbhjd over v/ire 
or bodies. Roads hardly existed, and if they did were impossible 
to trace in the rain and dark, except when the gun flashes lit up the 
night for a second or two. From Bohain and north they walked 
parallel with the German lines for two miles, gas shells whistling 
overhead and spraying out behind them. But iortunately they es- 
caped discovery by the German machine guns, and were at the as- 
signed stations in time — to find the attack postponed. 

Early in the morning, on October 13th, our Headquarters and 
main force, leaving a detail in Fremont, moved up to Busigny, a 
rather unhealthy resort. Our kitchen was welcomed by shells, 
taking the corner off the next house and splintering a beautiful glass 
veranda. The mess line, just formed, disappeared mysteriously; 
and for a whole day it was a matter of serious consideration if stew, 
prepared under more peaceful surroundings, but guaranteed free 
for glass and bricks, wouldn't be more preferable. By evening the 
question had been settled. None as yet killed or wounded, the 
kitchen crew gamely stuck to their job. It made us sure of our 
daily stew — the stew, everything considered, being the only thing 
we will never forgive them. Division Headquarters was hit in the 
afternoon, with the result of two officers killed and three or four 
men wounded. A British picket line, after considerable casuals in 
men and horses, forced to move. Our men on posts 5 and 6 had 
to seek cover continuously, post 5 virtually being evacuatecl twice, 
condemned by the Department of Health. 

The streets, roads, railroad, dressing stations and church 
(where we had a guard over the stolen gold — and silverware, 
nicely packed in boxes and trunks and addressed to officer — rela- 
tions in "der Vaterland") got their share of the regular bombard- 
ment, and made the gamest look around for a cellar which would 
give some protection against "der eisener fist." But finding a cellar 
was one thing, and being able to get down into it, something else. 
Hundreds of refugees from the town itself — Menneresse, St. Sou- 
plet, Escaufourt and Vaux-Andigny — had already packed them far 
above their capacity. We sent about 1,000 of them back to Roisel 
and another too to C. C. S., during the following days. Neverthe- 
less, we did find a few roomy and empty. But a lighted match soon 
explained the reason for this startling discovery. They were filled 

60 




German line. Fig. I shows situation before 
Fig. II by October 21st 



attack. 



with water — i to 2 feet dirty, stinking slum — and our friends, the 
rats. 

Again we doubt human beings ordinarily would appreciate their 
comfort. We found them worth a couple of millions, placed a cou- 
ple of barrels in the lake, boards over, and slept soundly, dreaming 
about Venice and gondolas. Having already daily sent out patrols, 
our mounted men doing most of this preliminary work, toward St. 
Souplet, St. Martin and Vaux-Andigny, the towns being the final 
object, and an impossible one, as they were all in reality "no man's 
land," the battle at last started October 17th, to last for four days. 
Saying the battle is not quite correct. It was really two independ- 
ent battles, ending up in some obstinate rearguard actions, until the 
English, on October 21st, when our Division was "spent," again 
took up the burden, forcing home a new attack on a great scale. 

The object on the first day was to force the la Sele River, as 
the St. Quentin canal stubbornly defended on account of its value 
as a tank defense, and on the second, when the crossing had been 
successfully carried out, to carry the Jonc de Mer ridge, covering 
the ground immediately in front and north of Arbre Guernon, a 
part of the defense system known as the Wotan line. 

Strong as this position undeniably was, it was a natural strong- 
hold more than anything else. The proposed defense system had 
not been completed, the trench and wire lines were only partly 
constructed, but the wooded and rolling country, as already said, 
lent itself admirably to a defensive campaign. 

As the German divisions we fought against at the Hindenburg 
line were more or less wiped out, we faced an entire new line-up, al- 
though the 84th and 122nd Infantry Regiments, or rather what was 
left of them (formerly with the 54th Division), had been consol- 
idated with the 478th and 479th Infantry Regiments into a new 
Division called the 243rd. This, the 3rd Naval (hurried down 
from Cambrai), 17th Rifle (including another of the regiments 
from the 8th Prussian Division, Mont Kemmel — the 72nd Infantry 
Regiment), 204th, 24th and 15th Rifles (25th, 69th Infantry Reg- 
iment and the "Tilsitz Landsturm"), were our opponents. 

All of these Divisions had recently been reorganized, some of 
them for Heaven only knows what time, but at any rate so often 
that the men hardly knew their Division number, and in most cases 
were absolutely ignorant as to who their officers were. 

If further proof was needed to what extent the Germans were 
short of men, here it was, and when the 1 13th and 142nd Infantry 
Regiments (remnant of the 29th Division) finally was thrown in on 
the second day to fill the gap (3rd Naval Division nearly wiped 
out), the confusion was complete. 

October 17th at 5:20 A. M., the attack was finally launched, 
the delay made necessary to improve the communications. It cov- 
ered a lo-mile front from le Cateau south, our line consisting of 

61 



46th, 1st, 6th, 50th and 66th English, 27th and 30th American 
Divisions. 

During the first two days the resistance was obstinate. The 
German artillery seemed more powerful than in the Hindenburg 
affair. They stayed longer, too, what our P. of W. records can 
prove, as the 27th Division alone took 16 artillery officers those 
days. 

The 19th the resistance was broken. Although raining, 
muddy and foggy, the 27th had crossed the river, despite an in- 
tense bombardment, constructed bridges, and carried the Jonc de 
Mer heights, but nearing the St. Maurice River, a small stream in 
front of Catillon, and about three and one-half miles northeast of 
St. Souplet, the resistance again stiffened, until the 3rd British Army 
on the night of October 20th opened a new drive north of le Ca- 
teau, which threatened the German flank, and forced them to fall 
back. October 21st saw us in possession of St. Martin, Bazuel, 
Molain, Wassigny, Arbre Guernon, Ribeauville, Mazinghien, St. 
Souplet, and la Valle Mulatre, our Division had made a gain of 
almost 5 miles, and 42 officers and about 1,600 men had been taken 
prisoners in 4 days. 

As to our small share in the big outcome, the 102nd M. P. on 
October i6th withdrew the details from Becquigny and Bohain, and 
the patrols on the Vaux-Audigny road, the 30th American Division 
moving in south of us, taking over Becquigny and Bohain being 
British domain. 

Same evening at i8th hour (battle time) a detail reported at 
107th Infantry Headquarters, advancing to St. Souplet next morn- 
ing with the regiment. On the 17th about 5 A. M. another left 
for Menneresse, and a third for Escaufort, at that time also used 
as base for our mounted men. The Busigny posts 1-5 remained 
as before, reinforcement being sent to post 5, where the Division 
P. of W. cage was located. And as developments the following 
days necessitated additional posts, especially at St. Souplet and the 
Advanced Dressing Stations, every available man, including wag- 
oners, horseshoers, clerks and cooks, were soon forced into the 
break to satisfy the requirements. 

The morning of the 17th proved to be rather costly. Moving 
into position, just when our barrage opened, our details and mounted 
men were caught in the German counter barrage. Before noon we 
had not less than 6 men wounded, and, shells and gas being plenti- 
ful, it seemed certain that it wouldn't be the last. 

Our details at St. Souplet, without any doubt, got the worst of 
it. For two whole days they were in the midst of his frantic bom- 
bardment put down on the town to prevent us from using the bridge 
they had blown up but which we had repaired, or the construction 
of additional bridges for the Artillery and Supply. Unceasingly 
the shells crashed into the town, and when the men sought cover in 

62 




German Aeroplane-picture taken over our line north of Bohain 



63 



the ruins, the poisonous gas would stretch out its cruel hand to 
finish what the shrapnels had left undone. 

The gas didn't succeed, but it came close enough. Luck, and 
nothing else, saved our men, who sometimes had to work hours at 
a time in the gas masks. And when they finally came out on the 
2 1 St, they were all hoarse, red-eyed and coughing, but fortunately 
the cases were all slight. 

The mounted men and the other details in that sector had 
equally dangerous experiences, even if the shelling behind Souplet 
was less intense, when the first assault was over. While our right 
Hank, cut by the Premont-Vaux-Audigny road — the main vein for 
supply — all the time was in for heavy fire, lasting up to the very 
last day. The P. of W. cage, situated in the southeast corner of 
the crossroad at post 5, was thus the constant victim for "stray 
shells," naturally intended for the road but landing all over the 
field. October 21st the entire outfit reported at Brancourt, stayed 
there over night, and next day "a la Australian," which means "by 
hopping lorries," returned to the P. of W. cage at Roisel — for a 
real rest, at last ! 

It is doubtful if anybody can give much of an account of our 
two days' stay there. We just turned in and fell to sleep — slept as 
only a man taxed to the utmost of his endurance can sleep — and, 
what's more, we deserved it! 

For four weeks we hadn't been out of our clothes. For four 
whole weeks every man had been under a continuous, sapping strain 
— mentally and physically. We had gone in with our Division on 
the 25th. W^ithdrew with it on October 2nd, but were already 
sent up again the next day to remain in the line until October 21st. 
During these four weeks we had followed the crest of our advance 
yard by yard. Our men were often worn out to the verge of an 
utter collapse, but they gamely stuck it out, refused to be relieved, 
even if any number of them were fit for a hospital bed, and when we 
finally withdrew they were still all "in it" — even if dead tired and 
only a hair's-breadth from breaking down under the tremendous 
effort. A 41-kilometer advance was our reward; 6,000 prisoners 
had gone through our hands, our trafl^c, patrol, straggler and bat- 
tlepost records were beyond reproach; if an indication of the M. 
P.'s energy and anxiousness still needs any comment, such is easily 
illustrated by citing an Australian officer's words, when some of our 
eager men came up and asked for the direction to a certain town, 
where they were going to establish a post: "Now, wait a minute, 
boys; you can't enter a town before it is taken." That was exactly 
the spirit of the men of the 102nd M. P., the spirit which caused 
one of the German officers to say about our infantry: "We can kill 
them, but we can't stop them." That was exactly the spirit which 
kept our men going — and made them fall down in a heap, when the 
work was done and the strain off. 

64 




65 



October 24th, late in the afternoon, we marched to the rail- 
road station to entrain for Corbie. Just swinging out of camp, the 
railroad tracks blew up, destroyed by the explosion of a "time-fuse" 
left behind by Jerry as a fitting souvenir. It meant a momentary 
paralysis of the traffic, and made us march to Tincourt for our 
train. Further delay there caused us to spend an ice cold night in 
the open. About 5 A. M. we were finally notified that traffic had 
been re-established, and at dinnertime we pulled into Corbie. 

Corbie, as Villers-Bretonneux further south, had seen the cli- 
max of the German drive. It was here they were definitely stopped, 
and it was these towns which had been used as the jumping-off points 
when our counter drive started. They were therefore naturally 
badly battered, and the houses far from waterproof, but they pro- 
vided fair quarters, and, what was far more important, rest and 
quiet. 

In this area the Division rested and reorganized for about 3 
weeks. Both being equally essential, as our losses had been ter- 
rible. The villages all being small, the Division was scattered 
around in a string of towns centering on Corbie, and a few days 
after we were therefore again called out, to garrison Amiens, Vil- 
lers-Bretonneux, Bussy, Vecquemont, Bonnay, Daours, and Vaux- 
sur-Somme. 

October 31st Major Shanton was relieved of the command, 
and Captain Ceballos made A. P. M. The reorganization thus at 
last being a fact. Captain Dieges was transferred. Two N. C. 
O.'s went to the Military Police O. T. S. November 4 and 5th we 
participated in the 2nd American Corps' big Division Athletic Meet 
near la Neuville. November loth our Division held a Memorial 
Parade for our killed on a field southwest of Corbie. At the same 
time the proudest and saddest ceremony in the Division's history. 
But why deny that all this came only second compared with the all- 
important question : Peace! Yes or no? 

The possibility for this seemed very bright. 

Turkey and Bulgaria had capitulated, Austria collapsed. The 
new attacks directed against Valenciennes, the Tournay salient, the 
Meuse line, in the Argonne, north and south of Bois de Mormal 
toward Mauberge, and against Ghent, had forced the enemy into a 
disorderly retreat, beyond recovery. Thursday, November 7th, 
the German negotiation delegates left Berlin, and at r i A. M., No- 
vember nth, 191 8, the church chimes acknowledged that hostilities 
had been suspended, at a time when we were ready and capable of 
starting a new and decisive drive which would have meant absolute 
disaster to the German armies, whose defensive powers had already 
been definitely destroyed. 

November i8th our detail from the 2nd American Corps, who 
joined us while we resided at Corbie, was recalled. 

66 



November 23rd the Division started its southward move to the 
le Mans area, our men detailed with the different trains, and the 
entire outfit therefore first assembled in Montfort by December 8th. 
And, as we now leave the English sector, let us frankly admit that 
nothing better could have happened to the Division than being sent 
up to toil with the "Tommies." 

What the exact reasons were for our engagement and ap- 
pearance on that front we still don't know. Maybe necessity, or 
because we were meant to play the part of a sacrifice animal, or it 
was one of the many military experiments. But be this as it may, 
it turned out to be extraordinarily fortunate, when we had first re- 
covered from the immediate shock and surprise and got used to the 
unexpected surroundings and their way of doing things. 

We worked to start with under the trying handicap of fighting, 
and having to make good, with veterans of four years of war, war 
fought against odds as we never will be able to realize, but as our 
grit, courage and fighting qualities had overcome this barrier, the 
handicap soon proved to be of extreme advantage, as our comrades 
in arms provided us with a perfect supply system, an artillery which 
had been brought down to the very limits of science and accuracy, 
at the same time giving us the privilege of benefiting from their 
wonderful organization and inexhaustible experience. If we made 
our "entree" burdened with certain settled ideas, even prejudice, 
against the English, their characteristics, system or methods, we 
most certainly left them filled with admiration, their ability to adapt 
themselves to almost German foresight, thoroughness and "sys- 
tem" was a revelation. 

The towns in our new community were smaller than ever, so 
that not less than 32 villages were required this time to house the 
entire division, namely: Montfort, Pont de Gennes, le Breil, Bou- 
loire, Surfonds, Ardenay, Soulitre, Thorigne, Nuille, Dollon, St. 
Michel, St. Corneille, Connerre, Duneau, Tuffe, St. Hilaire, St. 
Celerin, la Chapelle, Yvre I'Eveque, Savigny, Champagne, Fatines, 
Lombron, Condrecieux, Gaslande, Volney, Parence, Courseboeuf, 
Chanteloup, Sille le Philip, Sarge, le Luart. Four more — Laval, 
Montsurs, Louverne and Argentre — were added to the long list a 
few days later, when our Artillery, the 52nd F. A. Brigade (who 
had been attached to the 33rd Division in the American sector) ar- 
rived. 

January 2nd, 19 19, the 4th Company of the newly formed 
Area Military Police made their appearance and relieved us, from 
then on taking over, and acting as permanent corps police for the 
sector. About a week later we turned in horses and transports. 
We were ready to go ! 

But — and this is the reason why we hate the very name of the 
le Mans area — we didn't! 

We stayed, and stayed, and stayed. One day, two days and 

67 



more — many more — days. We were poisoned with rumors, red 
tape and disappointments. It was, without comparison, the crucial 
test of the entire war. Only men of the 27th Division will know 
what amount of disappointment, despair and rage is connected with 
dates as December 15th, January ist, January loth, January 21st, 
February i ith and February i6th. Only men of the 27th Division 
understand what the news meant: We have drawn 10 more days' 
rations ! 

The rumors flourished, appeared and disappeared In such 
quality and quantity that we silently promised never — never — again 
to smile or criticize female gossip-collecting. That we lived through 
it Is more than a miracle, we hardly slept, barely ate — and the wine 
wasn't worth drinking. 

"Flu" had already for some time harassed our camp. Re- 
gan, Burns and Keith left for the hospitals, and finally had to bow 
to the same grim death they so gallantly and fearlessly faced and 
fought on the battlefields. Spang and Davidson, two of our old 
comrades in arms, had already previously paid the same sacrifice. 
But — Isn't death worth while, when you die as a man, fighting for 
right and Ideals? 

January 22nd, General Pershing, Commander-in-Chief of the 
A. E. F., arrived, his private train staying over at Connerre, such 
necessitating a detail there as Guard of Honor. About 50 men 
left for the "Belgian Camp," where the Division review was held 
the next day, the various decorations at the same time being offi- 
clally awarded to the distinguished heroes. 

January 29th our Company records were inspected by the Em- 
barkation Officers, nourishing new hopes as to an early return. 
When moving orders really did arrive, February 4th, to leave Feb- 
ruary I Ith, the Division became delirious — to be on the verge of a 
wholesale suicide craze before night, as the Message Center, at 4 
P. M., sent out a new bulletin cancelling the morning order. 

February 7th a cold spell breezed in, resulting in nights spent 
under cover of every available bit of clothing, Including shoes, 
gloves, overcoat and hat. Not only, however, because It was cold, 
but because the "getting home" fever was so predominating that 
nobody dared take the slightest chance of being left behind when 
the order came. It was the most illustrating example we ever saw, 
or expect to see, of "watchful waiting" and "preparedness." 

Our physical and property Inspections progressed favorably. 
The last cootie had been caught, skinned and stuffed for the Divi- 
sion Museum. Our equipment and property brought up — or down 
— to the required proportions. Our final ordnance Inspection, un- 
expectedly, throwing new light on the reasons for the speedy con- 
clusion of the world's war, and our acceptance of the armistice — the 
United States was short of shoe laces! Each O. D. soldier, ac- 
cordingly, had to bring back to the only country two pairs of these 

68 




69 



valuable life necessities, to relieve the suffering and shortcoming 
back home. We are happy to say that we, on our subway and car 
rides, already have seen that this serious economic shortage has 
been remedied, even if we think that some girls wear shorter dresses 
than absolutely necessary, for the purpose of convincing the home- 
coming boys of their appreciation, and prove the presence of the 
coveted laces. 

February 20th — at last — our patient souls got their deserved 
reward — the moving order arrived! February 24th we left over 
Connerre for Brest. It was a wonderful day, which, despite oc- 
casional showers, forever will stand out in our recollection as a 
vision of sunshine and smiles. First, because we were finally on our 
way home; secondly, by the alluring prospect of one and one-half 
pound beefsteaks on the train. But for once — or rather, as usual — 
the "Stars and Stripes" had made a mistake, the journalist, by some 
odd accident and carelessness, getting a line about the Paris-Bag- 
dad sleeper into our modest and democratic news column. How- 
ever, we had gone without food so often before, we were on our 
way home, and as we still had to go through Brest — a camp of ex- 
ceptional reputation — ^we didn't talk much about it, even if — this 
was confirmed by some of our men who talked in their sleep — It 
made a certain impression. 

February 25th, about 3 :30, the harbor of Brest displayed its 
cradle of dreams for our wondering eyes. We detrained, had sup- 
per in an American "quick lunch'\mess, and marched out to camp — 
the camp with the exceptional reputation. That we arrived in a 
drizzling rain is hardly worth commenting on, as a day without rain 
at Brest is a distinct failure. That camp and roads — at least what 
we saw of it — was a mire of mud, with duckboards to prevent cas- 
ualties, and tents far below the required sanitary standard, is like- 
wise non-essential, as rumors to that effect had reached us while we 
were still fighting In Flanders. But it did look like a rather un- 
healthy joke to advertise the Brest camp as a "cleaning-up resort," 
we most certainly didn't improve our hygienic or health standard 
while there. Five days we spent In this place, usually busily en- 
gaged at some important and necessary fatigue detail or other. In 
the morning f. I. we would bring 200 boards from point A to point 
B, and In the afternoon from point B back to point A. It speaks 
loud about the morale and high quality of our men, when we sur- 
vived It without a "breakdown," and even had "excellent" on our 
working papers. 

March 3rd we moved over to barracks — a change which didn't 
look promising to us right then. Two hours after, while at mess 
(burned "goldfish"), a new message almost stunned us: the Com- 
pany had to be at the pier in about an hour! 

It was the best and speediest move we ever executed. Happy, 
and silent as ghosts, we jumped into the lorries, and left for the 

70 



harbor, where we were met by the officers. Roll call! Another 
silent procession to the lighter, and we were off — on our way back 
home! C. 8:30 P. M., we boarded the liner, SS. Mt. Vernon. 
Less than half an hour after the big ship hoisted anchor and set 
out for home. It was all so sudden, so wonderful, it didn't seem 
real at all. 

Crowded on the decks we motionless watched the lights and 
the dark silhouette of shore disappearing in the night. Listened to 
the propellers, each swift turn bringing us another yard or two 
nearer "there." One hat after another was removed, to give the 
salt breeze free play around feverishly hot foreheads. Hardly a 
word was said, as if afraid it should awaken us from a dream — a 
dream we loved to dream. It was the night of nights, the night 
where tears could be detected in eyes who had faced death and de- 
struction without the slightest fear, it was tlie night, worth every bit 



IN MEMORIAL 

DUNLOP, ROBERT E. 
CALLAHAN, LESLIE D. 
SPANG, ELWOOD P. 
REGAN, THOMAS W. 
BURNES, HARRY S. 
KEITH, ELISHA B. 
DAVIDSON, EDWARD C. 



of suffering, hardship and danger, only — it didn't seem real, it was 
almost too wonderful to be true. 

March nth we again set foot on American soil, and after a 
good long look at "the old girl" and the treasure she is guarding 
so carefully — New York City — left for Camp Mills, where we re- 
mained until Parade Day, March 25th, where the town and nation 
gave us a welcome which, as a sergeant of the io8th Infantry and 
a Major who once gave us a hand-to-hand talk in France both said — 
almost ( !) — repaid us for whatever we might have gone through, 
and March 26th we were sent to Camp Upton, to await our "exe- 
cution." 

April I St, after being fooled and delayed several times on ac- 
count of trivial red-tape mistakes, we — at last — acquired the most 
sacred and treasured paper in a soldier's life, hopes and dreams — 
our discharge! We were, once more, free men, peaceful citizens, 
ready to enter a new strenuous — If less bloody — engagement: the 
battle for an existence. 

71 



FINIS 

Do you remember when we talked together — you and I — 
after the war? While in some French, little town, counting sec- 
onds, minutes and hours, until the boat finally came and brought us 
back home. Do you remember how we talked and talked — you 
and I — and almost considered a year lost? 

But — do you remember something else? 

Do you remember how we felt — you and I — when we came 
back, and stepped off that same boat? 

We felt good that day, happy, proud and at ease, didn't we? 
We had a good conscience! 

Happiness in this life does not come from wealth, material 
success or position. Not the real happiness, at least. 

Only a clear conscience makes a man feel at ease. Only a 
clear conscience makes life worth while. And — would we have 
felt that way if we hadn't — wasted — that year? 

Most certainly no ! 

Now we felt happy, proud and at ease. Felt that we had done 
our duty, responded willingly, without hesitation, when the call 
came, proved that we were men, true sons of a great nation. No, 
we did not waste that year, you and I ! 




72 



HEADQUARTERS 27th DIVISION, U. S. A. 
American E. F., France. 
From : Commanding General, October 22, 1918. 

To: Commanding Officer, 102nd Military Police. 

Subject: Commendation. 

1. Since the great battle for the breaking of the Hindenburg Line, September 
25th-30th, the division after a few days of rest has been engaged in almost contin- 
uous marching and fighting. The rapidity with which operations have succeeded 
each other and the many new features and problems presented with each successive 
Police. Their work has been ceaseless and their efficiency marked. Everywhere 
advance have furnished many difficulties to be met and overcome by the Military 
they have shown resourcefulness and their handling of the many prisoners taken 
has been most satisfactory. 

2. It is a pleasure to make record of this efficient accomplishment and to com- 
mend the officers and men of the 102nd Military Police. 

JOHN F. O'RYAN, 
Major General. 

HEADQUARTERS 2nd CORPS, A. E. F. 
Office of the Provost Marshal. 
Capt. J. W. Ceballos, January 5, 1919. 

Provost Marshal, 27th Div., 
My dear Capt. Ceballos : 

As the time is rapidly approaching when the Military Police of the 27th Divi- 
sion are about to sail for home, I would like to add a word to the many commen- 
dations you have received for your work in France. 

In all the recent operations on the British Front in which we have been to- 
gether, your men have been under my close personal observation and many of them 
have been detailed to work with these Headquarters. 

They have been brave, efficient and trustworthy throughout, extremely soldierly 
in bearing, good horsemen and thoroughly reliable. From my observation of some 
eleven divisions I can truthfully say that none have excelled them. 

I wish you all a safe return and all kinds of good luck and prosperity in the 
future. Sincerely yours, 

H. A. C. DE RUBIO, 
Major, P. M. II Corps. 

HEADQUARTERS 27th DIVISION, U. S. A., 
American E. F., France. 

January 25, 1919. 
Capt. Juan W. Ceballos, 

Commanding 102nd Military Police, 
27th Division, U. S. A., 

American E. F., France. 
My dear Captain Ceballos : 

Now that the Division is about to leave France for the United States, I take 
this opportunity of expressing to you my appreciation of the excellence of the 
Military Police work of your command throughout the entire period of the service 
of the Division both in the United States and in France. At all times your com- 
mand has constituted a model of military precision and courtesy. Its standards in 
relation to these qualities have been met in other respects, for in battle you and 
your officers and men aggressively and intelligently, and with the greatest courage, 
performed your battle functions. You have had a personnel of the very highest 
class with which to work, but even such a personnel, to be effective under the try- 
ing conditions of war, must possess disciplined and skilled leadership, and these 
were not lacking. 

Commendation of the Military Police of this Division would not be complete 
without some reference to the integrity of its personnel. Never has this been im- 
peached. The Divisional Military Police by their standards of honor, impartial and 
courageous enforcement of battle orders and routine regulations, have won the 
respect and admiration of the entire Division. 

Very respectfully, 

(Signed) JOHN F. O'RYAN, 
(COPY) Major General 

73 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 

Ceballos, Juan W., Bay Shore, L. I. 

Baldwin, Oran Stiles, care Davidson & Co., Keap Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Abbey, Martin, 111 East 26th Street, N. Y. C. 

Ackermann, Francis A., 1112 Oak Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 

Adrian, Anthony L., N. Y. A. C, 59th Street, N. Y. C. 

Ahearn, William J.. 296 East Broadway, N. Y. C. 

Albert, Rudolph, 441 Wythe Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Allen, Edward R., 1265 Pacific Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Arnold, Charles C, 134 Richmond Avenue, Syracuse, N. Y. 

Ayers, Charles C, Mystic, Conn. 

Arata, George F., 2306 Ave. Q, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Barry, Joseph R., 44 Highland Avenue, Jersey City, N. J. 

Bauer. Irving H., 129 Stiles Street, Elizabeth, N. J. 

Baum, Robert. 1800 7th Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Bell. August E., 409 W. Newell Street. Syracuse, N. Y. 

Benedict. Arthur H.. 823 West End Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Bender. Clarence I., Carlisle, Pa., R. F. D. No. 4. 

Bertan, Cornelius G., 376 Marcy Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Bidinger, Charles F., 104 East Colvin Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 

Bidwell, George R., 207 West 107th Street, N. Y. C. 

Birdsall. Franklin T., 43 Exchange Place, N. Y. C. care E. H. Rollins & Sons. 

Bishop, Morgan E., 254 West 127th Street, N. Y. C. 

Black, Joseph A., 103 West 103rd Street, N. Y. C. 

Blackmar, WilHam H.. 666 Oakland Place, N. Y. C. 

Bohmann, Henry, Jr., 449 East 164th Street, N. Y. C. 

Bolton, Ralph S., 261 Stuyvesant Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Boshen, Christopher, 158 East 82nd Street. N. Y. C. 

Boyle, Joseph F., 638 Hart Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Bradley, William B. C. 761 Ocean Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Bradley, William B., Short Hills, N. J. 

Bridge, William A., Sherwood Place, Greenwich. Conn. 

Brown, Colin C. 9 Jefferson Street, Auburn. N. Y. 

Browne, Arthur L., 827 Madison Avenue, New Durham, N. J. 

Brownhill, George, 189 Conover Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Buckley, John T., 148 East 97th Street, N. Y. C, care Walsh. 

Bunker. Myron S., 52 North 8th Avenue, Mt. Vernon, N. Y. 

Burke. Robert L., 820 Manhattan Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Calnan, Arthur J., Yale Club. 44 Vanderbilt Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Campbell, Charles L., 736 W. 181st Street, N. Y. C. 

Canlon, Frank J., 106 Elizabeth Street, West Brighton, S. I. 

Cantwell, Thomas J., 431 West 35th Street, N. Y. C. 

Carle, Wilfred C, Harrison, Westchester County. N. Y. 

Carlson, E. J.. 3406 Corlear Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Castellanos, A. V., 1664 Nelson Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. C, care A. Pryor. 

Chamberlain. Robert L., Greenwich, Conn., care Putnam Trust Co. 

Chase, Marvin K., 305 Talman Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 

Cheever, Percy K., 27 West 129th Street, N. Y. C. 

Clapp, Henry S., 455 East 28th Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Clarke, R. A., 1 Montgomery Place, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Colburn, Alfred V.. 122 Meadow Ave., Syracuse, N. Y. 

Colburn, Sidney, 122 Meadow Avenue, Syracuse, N. Y. 

Colfax. Noble L.. 176 Broad Street, Bloomfield, N. J. 

Connell. Richard E., 27 West 44th Street, N. Y. C. 

Corker. Thomas. 107 Ten Eyck Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Creighton. George W., Riverhead. L. I. 

Cruthers, Harry C, Moravia, Cayuga County, N. Y. 

75 



Cumiskey, James F., 1 Park Avenue, Stamford, Conn. 
Currier, Arthur B., 427 Lexington Avenue, N. Y. C. 
Curtis, Chester VV., 924 Vanderveer Avenue, Woodhaven, L. I. 
Cushion, Charles, 204 Elm Street, Newark, N. J. 

Daggens, William J., 120 East 89th Street, N. Y. C. 
Dahl, Corbin. 4075 Beaufort Avenue, Woodhaven, L. I. 
Davenport, John, 1346 Prospect Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. C. 
Denny, Melvin A., 103 Warner Avenue, Syracuse, N. Y. 
Doherty, Lionel M., Colonial Inn, Rye, N. Y. 
Donahoe, Harold M., 61 Duane Street, Malone, N. Y. 
Donelly, Cornelius. 153 East 15th Street, N. Y. C. 
Donohue, James J., 345 East 39th Street, N. Y. C. 
Donohue, James N., 302 West 79th Street, N. Y. C. 
Donovan, James J., 20 West 18th Street, Bayonne, N. J. 
Dowling, Joseph, 209 East 58th Street, N. Y. C, care Kennedy. 
Dunn, William F., Tucker Street, Lenox, Mass. 
Dunne, James Warren, 66 South 17th Street, Flushing, L. L 

Feehan, Paul, 542 West 160th Street, N. Y. C. 
Feehan, Richard P., 542 West 160th Street, N. Y. C. 
Ferris, James C, 86 Lefiferts Place, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Ferry, Anthony M., 11 West 68th Street, N. Y. C. 
Finney, Charles H., 301 West 36th Street, N. Y. C. 
Fish, Thomas W.. Jr., Lake Ronkonkoma, L. L 
Fitzpatrick, Martin, 335 West 43rd Street, N. Y. C. 
Flynn, James T.. Church Street, Lenox, Mass., Box 109. 
Franz, Charles, Jr., 607 East 12th Street, N. Y. C. 

Gadlewski, John, 445 Willoughby Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. C. 

George, Ralph, Mahopac Falls, N. Y. 

Gilligan, James F., 656 Cooper Street, Watertown, N. Y. 

Green, Berth E., 170 Vale Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 

Greene, George D., 2092 Washington Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Greene, George, 412 Woolf Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 

Hanna, Donald, 622-A 3rd Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Hayward, Robert B., 214 South 5th Avenue, Mt. Vernon, N. V. 
Heaney, James J., 391 Douglas Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
HefFran, Eugene A., 518 Columbus Avenue, Syracuse, N. Y. 
Heil, George C, 264 Ovington Avenue, Bayridge, N. Y. 
Hendershot, Carl A., 65 Melrose Street, Rochester, N. Y. 
Howe, Cyrus L., 10 Ridgeview Avenue, White Plains, N. Y. 
Hoffmann, Lawrence S., 904 Leggett Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. C. 

. Irvine, Gordon F.. 454 West 146th Street, N. Y. C, care E. Anson. 

Johnson, Baldwin A., Ill 55th Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Johnson, Samuel E., 19 Lawrence Street, Greenwich, Conn. 

Kelber, Louis J.. 598 St. Ann's Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. C. 

Kelly, John, 142 West 101st Street, N. Y. C. 

Kimmerer, George F., 61 Gordon Street, Stapleton, S. L 

Kniffen, Charles P., Katonah, N. Y. 

Kupferberg, Ed., care Metropolitan Life Ins., Rochester, N. Y. 

Kyle, John, 2562 8th Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Lambright, Harold T., 96 Warwick Avenue, Rochester, N. Y. 
La Mothe, Lester A., 534 Monroe Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Lanev, Leach Harold, 48 Danforth Avenue, Jersey City, N. J. 
Langdon, William J., Phoenix, N. Y., R. F. D. No. 1. 
Lawson, George B., 506 Dean Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Lesko, George J., 648 Leonard Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

76 



Lessing, Frank. 133 Tava Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Lloyd, Roy R., N. V. A. Club, N. Y. C. 

Lodarinsky, John. 427 Walnut Street, Yonkers, N. Y. 

Logan, Kenneth B., 187 Marll)orough Road, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Lynch, Joseph A., 208 East 52nd Street, N. Y. C., care Storage Co. 

McCarthy, Cal. J., 13()6 East 35th Street, Brooklyn, N. V. 

McGaulev. Thomas, 226 Wvckoff Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Mcllroy," Herbert \V. M., 583 Madison Street. Brooklyn, N. Y. 

McManus, John F., 1 Park Avenue, Stamford. Conn. 

McMurray, Nelson. 535 Rilley Street, Buffalo. N. Y. 

Macco. Fred G., 414 W'adsworth Street. Syracuse, N. Y. 

MacPherson. Clark C, 40 Cedar Street, Oneonta, N. Y. 

Mahoney. Martin, 17 Skinner Street, Little Falls, N. Y. 

Mauk, Samuel H.. 54 Elm Street. Erwin, Tenn. 

Mayer, Ferdinand, 601 West 110th Street, N. Y. C. 

Mead, Sylvester W., Round Hill Road, Greenwich, Conn. 

Meers, James F.. 2560 Broadway, N. Y. C, care Drug Store (cor. 96th St.) 

Mentrup, Carl, 92 Prospect Park West, Brooklvn, N. Y. 

Mueller. Dixon M., 2 East 46th Street, N. Y. C. 

Mills, George A.. 39 W. 67th Street, N. Y. C. 

Mohan, Arthur J.. 676 Dawson Street. N. Y. C. 

Molloy, Arthur N., Broad Channel, N. Y. 

Mooney, Edward J.. 1955 3rd Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Moore. Philip H.. Bruce Park. Greenwich, Conn. 

Morse. Donald E.. 135 Cameron Street. Rochester, N. Y. 

Mosbaugher, Harold F., 107 Fillmore Street, Rochester, N. Y. 

Murphy, Joseph D., 39 Sargent Street, North Andover, Mass. 

Nee, Martin H.. Greenwich Avenue, Greenwich, Conn. 
Nelson, Theodore S., 329 South Broadway, Yonkers, N. Y. 
NicoU. Robert W.. 12 Lawrence Street. Greenwich, Conn. 
O'Hara, John F., 788 Putnam Ave.. Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Olton, Henrv R.. 234 Bradhurst, N. Y. 
Osborne, Frederick. 8 East 10th Street. N. Y. C. 

Panter, Samuel W.. Sea Bright. N. J. 

Perry, Frank D.. 419 South 4th Avenue. Mt. Vernon, N. Y. 

Perry, George B.. 419 South 4th Avenue. Mt. Vernon. N. Y. 

Peters, Henry F.. 386 Marion Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Phillips, Byron S., 115 West ClitY Street, Summerville. N. J. 

Poletti. Louis A.. 318 Demott St.. West Hoboken. N. J., care Columbian Club. 

Polsky, Abraham, 137 Barrett Street, Brooklyn. N. Y. 

Pratt, Henry E., 120 Gere Ave., Syracuse, N. Y. 

Praver, Abe, 771 Trinitv Avenue. Bronx, N. Y. 

Purcell, William L., 1279 3rd Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Reilly, Edward V., 2320 Cambrelling Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. 

Reilly, William L. 782 East 169th Street, Bronx, N. Y. 

Reichenbach. Philip L.. Jr.. 2805 8th Avenue. N. Y. C. 

Rextrew. Harvey C.. 294 Morton Avenue, Albany, N. Y. 

Rice, Fred W., Tyson Place, East Syracuse, N. Y. 

Roffe, George A., Leicester. N. Y. 

Rousseau, Louis D., Seaford. Long Island. N. Y. 

Rylander, Elmer A., 26 Hubbard Place, Flatbush, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Scholtz, Herbert W.. 30 Linden Street, Brooklyn. N. Y. 
Schuyler, Stewart. 133 West Kennedy Avenue, Syracuse, N. Y. 
Schwensen. Kai. 445 Willoughbv Avenue. Brooklyn, N. V. 
Sentner. David P.. 601 West ir2th Street, N. Y. C. 
Shanley, John J., 7i Cranberry Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Sheehy, George F.. 402 Monroe Street. Hoboken, N. J. 
Shotwell, Samuel T., 640 Prospect Place. BrookUn, N. Y. 
Skiff, Thomas J., Mt. Kisco, care Mrs. Abbey Schmetter. 

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Slattery, John F., 162 East End Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Sloudy, James F., Croton-on-Hudson, N. Y. 

Smith, Hugh M., 47 West SOth Street, N. Y. C. 

Smith, Stanley B., Mt. Kisco, N. Y. (Box 245) 

Soman, Lester, 680 St. Nicholas Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Spreckelmeyer, Frank H., 1918 18th Street N. W., Washington, D. C. 

Steele, Thomas L., 66 Scribner Avenue, Staten Island, N. Y. 

Stevens, Clarence L., 46 Abcndroth Place, Portchester, N. Y. 

Stewart, Clyde J., 190 Weldon Street, Rochester, N. Y. 

Summers, Timothy D., 1248 Pacific Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Thomas, C. W., 52 Arch Street, Greenwich, Conn. 
Tileston, Arthur C, 100 Dakota Street, Dorchester, Mass. 
Tillotson, Harold I., 7 Webb Avenue, Ocean Grove, N. Y. 
Torgersen, Trygver, 437 Essex Street. Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Tracy, John J., Millbrook, Dutchess County, N. Y. 
Trostel, Fred C., 162 East End Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Uhlmann, Maurice W.. 36 West 89th Street, N. Y. C 

Van Hoesen, Fred, 767 2nd Avenue, N. Y. C. 

Van Wyck, Samuel B., 107 Joraleman Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Vanderlvn, Jav D., 601 West 118th Street, N. Y. C. 

Vincent, Paul W., 420 Riverside Drive, N. Y. C, Apt. 7-B. 

Wagner, Edw. H., 599 Bushwick Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Waller, Thomas, 445 Willoughln- Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Walsh, John T., 1389 Putnam Avenue. Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Wehringer, Harry R., 15 Wadsworth Avenue. N. Y. C. 

Weiler, Charles, 505 9th Avenue, Long Island City, N. Y. 

Wheeler, Welton E., 213 James Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 

Weston. John, 1550 Fulton Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

White, Ray N., Waddington, N. Y. 

Williams, John F., 3 Ridgeview Avenue, White Plains, N. Y. 

Williams, John AL, 600 West 174th Street, N. Y. C. 

Williamson, James A., 220 Adelphi Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Wilson, Warren M., 525 Fourth Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Woitke, Fred W., Stamford. Conn. 

Wright, Lawrence L., 1615 Hillsdale Avenue, Dormont, Pa., Allegheny Co. 

Yore, Thomas, 782 East 169th Street, Bronx, N. Y. 

Zehnder, Gustave, 419 South Fourth Avenue, Mt. Vernon, N. Y. 

Zube, Ernest, 225 Cleveland Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 



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